
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 


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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 









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No. 2. E UNIVERSAL LIBRARY. Apr. is, 1892. 



m VON TDODLEBURGS, 

♦ 

OR 

The History of a very Distinguished Family. 

BY 

F. COLBURN HDHMS. 


■S-EzLEEhS - 


PpICE, - - - 25 CENTS. 



Weekly. Price, $25.00 per Tear in advance. Entered at New York Post Office as Second Class Matter. 


THE 


YON TOODLEBURGS; 

OR, 


THE HISTORY OF A VERY DISTINGUISHED FAMILY. 


' BY y 

F. COLBURN ADAMS, 

AUTHOR OF ** MANUEL PERIERE, OR THE SOVEREIGN RULE OF SOUTH CAROLINA; 

“our world;” “chronicles of the bastile;” “an outcast;” 

“ADVENTURES OF MAJOR RODGER SHERMAN PORTER;” “THE 
8TORY OF A TROOPER;” “THE SIEGE OF 
WASHINGTON,” ETC. 



; 


1 


HEW YORK 

HURST & COMPANY, Publishers 

134-136 Grand Street 









PREFACE. 


I never could see what real usefulness there was in a preface 
to a work of this kind, and never wrote one without a misgiving 
that it would do more to confuse than enlighten the reader. 

The good people of Nyack will pardon me, I know they will, 
for taking such an unwarrantable liberty as to locate many of 
my scenes and characters in and around their flourishing little 
town. I have no doubt there are persons yet living there 
who will readily recognize some of my characters; especially 
those of Hanz and Angeline Toodleburg. That the very distin- 
guished family of Yon Toodleburgs, which flourished so exten- 
sively in New York at a later period, as described in the second 
series of this work, will also be recognized by many of my 
readers I have not a doubt. Nyack should not be held respon- 
sible for all the sins of the great Kidd Discovery Company, since 
some of the leading men engaged in that remarkable enterprise 
lived on the opposite side of the river, many miles away. 

The reader must not think I have drawn too extensively on 
my imagination for material to create “No Man’s Island” and 
build “Dunman’s Cave” with. About eighteen years ago I 
chanced to have for fellow traveller an odd little man, of the name 
of Price, (better known as Button Price,) who had been captain 
of a New Bedford or Nantucket whaleship. He was an earnest, 
warm-hearted, talkative little man, and one of the strangest bits 
of humanity it had ever been my good fortune to fall in with. 
He had lost his ship on what he was pleased to call an unknown 
island in the Pacific. He applied the word “unknown” for the 
only reason that I could understand, that he did not know it 
<vas there until his ship struck on it. He regarded killing a 
whale as the highest object a man had to live for, and had no 
rery high respect for the mariner who had never “looked round 


iv 


PREFACE. 


Cape Horn,” or engaged a whale in mortal combat. He was on 
his way home to report the loss of his ship to his owners. An 
act of kindness, and finding that I knew something of the sea, 
and could sympathize with a sailor in misfortune, made us firm • 
friends to the end of our journey. 

To this odd little man, then, I am indebted for the story of 
the old pirate of “No Man’s Island,” and what took place in 
“Dunman’s Cave;” for it was in just such a place, according 
to his own account, that he lost his ship. Much of his story, as 
told to me then, seemed strange and incredible — in truth, the 
offspring of a brain not well balanced. 

Time has shown, however, that there was much more truth in 
this old whaleman’s story than I had given him credit for. 
“No Man’s Island” is somewhat better known to navigators 
now, though still uninhabited and bearing a different name. 
“Dunman’s Cave,” too, has been the scene of more than one 
shipwreck within six years. 

Those who have carefully studied the causes producing 
“boars,” or “tidal waves,” as they appear in different parts of 
the world, and the singular atmospheric phenomena which at 
times accompany them, will not find it difficult to understand 
the startling changes which took place in “Dunman’s Cave” 
when the “ Pacific ” was wrecked. They will understand, also, 
why the “set” was so strong at so great a distance from the 
entrance, and why the “boar” rose to such a height in a narrow 
gate, or entrance formed by steep rocks, before it broke, and 
went rushing and roaring onward with irresistible force. They 
will also understand what produced the noise resembling the 
sound of a mighty waterfall. 

F. 0. A. 

Washington, D. C., January , 1868. 


OONTEHTS. 


BOOK X. 

Chapter. Page. 

I. Ancient Heads of the Family, 9 

H. Coming into the World, • . . 16 

III. The New Comer, 21 

IV. Changed Prospects, 25 

Y. Tite Toodleburg and a Modern Reformer, . . 30 

VI. A Little Family Affair, 39 

YII. The Town moved with Indignation, .... 46 

IX. Tite takes his Departure for the South Sea, . 5T 

X. Mr. and Mrs. Chapman disagree, .... 63 

XI. Mrs. Chapman cultivates New Acquaintances, TO 

XII. A Strange Gentleman, 81 

XHI. Captain Bottom, the Whale-Killer, ... 88 

XIV. The Coming Winter and a Merry-Making, . . 100 

XV. Mrs. Chapman and the Upper Circles, . . 109 

XVI. A Night Expedition, 113 

XVII. Mr. Gusher is introduced to Mattie, . . . 123 

XVIII. Rounding Cape Horn, 135 

XIX. Making a Fortune, 143 

XXI. Coming Events cast their Shadows, .... 158 

XXII. The Chapmans move into the City, . . . 166 

XXHI. Mrs. Chapman gives a Ball, 176 

(v) 


VI 


CONTENTS. 


XXI Y. Very Perplexing 186 

XXV. An Unlucky Voyage, 196 

XXVI. Dunman’s Cave, 204 

XXVII. Old Dunrnan and the Pirate’s Treasure, . . 213 

XXVIII. Mr. Gusher sustains his Character, . . . 225 

XXIX. Changed Circumstances, 230 

XXX. A Terrible Calamity overtakes the Family, . 237 

XXXI. A Very Perplexing Situation, 247 

XXXII. Harvest-Sunday, 251 

XXXIII. Returned Home, 260 

XXXIV. He brings Joy into the House, .... 273 

XXXV. How He got away from the Island, .... 277 

XXXVI. An Interesting Ceremony, ...... 282 


THE YON TOODLEBURHS, 

OR THE 

History of a very Distinguished Family. 


CHAPTER I. 

ANCIENT HEADS OF THE FAMILY. 

Not more than a mile from the brisk little town of 
Nyack, on the Hudson river, and near where the road 
makes a sharp turn and winds up into the mountain, 
there lived, in the year 1803, an honest old farmer of 
the name of Hanz Toodlehurg. Hanz was held in high 
esteem by his neighbors, many of whom persisted in 
pronouncing his name Toodlebug, and also electing him 
hog-reef every year, an honor he would invariably de- 
cline. He did this, he said, out of respect to the rights 
of the man last married in the neighborhood. It mat- 
tered not to Hanz how his name was pronounced ; nor 
did it ever occur to him that some of his more ambitious 
descendants might he called on in a court of law to 
explain the circumstances under which their name was 
changed. I speak now of things as they were when 
the old settlers around Nyack were honest and unsus- 
pecting, before Fulton had astonished them with his 
steamboat, or those extravagant New Yorkers had 
invaded the town, building castles overlooking the Tap- 
pan Zee, and school-houses where the heads of honest 
Dutch children were filled with wicked thoughts. 


10 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


Hanz Toodleburg was short and stout of figure, had 
a full, round face, a large blunt nose, and a small gray 
eye. Indeed, there was no mistaking his ancestors, in 
whose language he spoke whenever the Dominie paid 
him a visit, which he did quite often, for Hanz had 
always good cheer-in the house, and a bed for a stranger. 
In short, it was a boast of Hanz that no traveller ever 
passed his house hungry, if he knew it. And it in- 
creased his importance with his neighbors that he raised 
more bushels to the acre than any of them, and sent 
better vegetables to the New York market. More than 
that, he would tell all the big folks in the village, with 
a nod of his head, that he owed no man a stiver he could 
not pay before the sun set, and in such a way as to con- 
vey a sly hint that it was more than they could do. 
The neighbors consulted Hanz concerning their worldly 
affairs, and, indeed, received his opinions as good au- 
thority. In fine, Hanz and the Dominie were called 
in to settle nearly all the disputes arising between the 
country folks for miles around. And it was said by 
these simple minded people that they got their rights 
quicker and less expensively in this way than when they 
went to law in the village and trusted to the magistrate 
and the lawyers for justice. 

As, however, there always will be idle and gos- 
siping people everywhere to say unkind things of their 
neighbors, especially when they are more prosperous 
than themselves, so there were gossips and mischievous 
people in the settlement who, when engaged over their 
cups, would hint at suspicious enterpises in which 
Ilanz’s ancestors were engaged on the Spanish Main. 
Indeed, they would hint at times that it was not saying 
much for his family that his father had sailed with 
Captain Kidd, which would account for the doubloons 


ANCIENT HEADS OF THE FAMILY. 


11 


and Mexican dollars Hanz could always bring out of a 
u rainy day / ’ That Hanz had a stock of these coins 
put safely away there could not be a doubt, for he would 
bring them out at times and part with them, declaring 
in each case that they were the last. But how he came 
by them was a mystery not all the wisdom of the settle- 
ment could penetrate. It was conceded that if there 
was any man in the settlement who knew more than 
Jacques, the schoolmaster, it was Titus Bright, who 
kept the little inn near the big oak ; and these two 
worthies would discuss for hours over their toddy the 
question of how Hanz came by his dollars and doub- 
loons. But they never came to a decision ; and gener- 
ally ended by sending their listeners home with their 
wits worse perplexed than ever. It was all well enough 
for old Jacques and the inn-keeper to show their knowl- 
edge of history ; but the gossips would have it that if 
Hanz’s father had sailed with Captain Kidd he, of course, 
knew where tjiat bold pirate had buried his treasure, 
and had imparted the secret to his son. Here was the 
way Hans came possessed of the doubloons and dollars. 
Indeed, it was more than hinted that Hanz had been 
seen of dark and stormy nights navigating the Tappan 
Zee, alone in his boat, and no one knew where he went. 
Another had it that he was sure to part with a doubloon 
or two shortly after one of these excursions, which told 
the tale. There were others who said it did not matter 
a fig if Hanz Toodlebug’s doubloons were a part of 
Kidd’s hidden treasure ; but it was selfish of him not to 
disclose the secret, and by so doing give his neighbors 
a chance to keep as good cows and sheep as he did. 
Hanz was not the man to notice small scandal, and con~ 
tin ued to smoke his pipe and make his friends welcome 
whenever they looked in. Once or twice he had been 


12 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


heard to say, that if anybody was particular to know 
how he came by his doubloons and dollars he would tell 
them. There was a place up in the mountain where 
he made them. 

I will say here, for the benefit of my readers, that 
the little old house where Hanz Toodleburg lived, and 
about which there clustered so many pleasant memories, 
still stands by the roadside, and is an object of consid- 
erable curiosity. It is much gone to decay now, and a 
very different person occupies it. There are persons 
still living in the village who knew Hanz, and never 
pass the place without recurring to the many happy 
hours spent under his roof. That was in the good old 
days, before Nyack began to put on the airs of a big 
town. There is the latticed arch leading from the gate 
to the door ; the little veranda, where the vines used to 
creep and flower in spring ; the moss-covered roof, and 
the big arm chair, made of cedar branches, where Hanz 
used to sit of a summer evening contemplating the beau- 
ties of the Tappan Zee, while drinking his cider and 
smoking his pipe. It was in this little veranda that busi- 
ness of great importance to the settlers would at times 
be discussed. The good sloop Heinrich wa3 at that time 
the only regular New York packet, making the round 
voyage every week. Her captain, one Jonah Balchen, 
was much esteemed by the people of Nyack for his skill 
in navigation ; and it was said of him that he knew 
every rock and shoal in the Tappan Zee, and no man 
ever lost his life who sailed with him. The arrival of 
the good sloop Heinrich then was quite an event, and 
whenever it occurred the neighbors round about would 
gather into Hanz’s little veranda to hear what news she 
brought from the city, and arrange with Captain Bal- 
chen for the next freight. Indeed, these honest old 


ANCIENT HEADS OP THE FAMILY. 


i: 


Dutchmen used to laugh at the idea of a man who would 
think of navigating the Tappan Zee in a boat with a big 
tea-kettle in her bottom, and making the voyage to New 
York quicker than the good sloop Heinrich. 

I have been thus particular in describing Hanz Too- 
dleburg's little home, since it was the birth-place ot 
Titus Bright Yon Toodleburg, who flourished at a more 
recent date as the head of a very distinguished family 
in New York, and whose fortunes and misfortunes it is 
my object to chronicle. 

Having spoken only of one side of the family, I will 
proceed now to enlighten the reader with a short ac- 
count of the other. “ Mine vrow, Angeline,” for such 
was the name by which Hanz referred to his good wife, 
was a woman of medium size and height, and endowed 
with remarkable good sense and energy. Heaven had 
also blessed her with that gentleness of temper so neces- 
sary to make a home happy. They had, indeed, been 
married nearly twenty years, and although nothing had 
come of it in the way of an offspring, not a cross word 
had passed between them. It was said to her credit 
that no housewife this side of the Tappan Zee could 
beat her at making bread, brewing beer, or keeping her 
house in good order. The frosts of nearly forty win- 
ters had whitened over her brows, yet she had the man- 
ner and elasticity of a girl of eighteen, and a face so 
full of sweetness and gentleness that it seemed as if God 
had ordained it for man's love. Angeline’s dress was 
usually of plain blue homespun, woven by her own 
hands, and with her cap and apron of snowy whiteness 
she presented a picture of neatness and comeliness not 
seen in every house. 

There was a big, square room on the first floor, with 
a little bed room adjoining, and an old-fashioned bed 


14 


THE VON TOODLEBUBGS. 


with white dimity curtains, fringe, and tassels made 
by Angeline’s own hand. Snow white curtains also 
draped the windows ; and there was a tidy and cosy 
air about the little bed room that told you how good a 
housewife Angeline was. An old-fashioned hand-loom 
stood in one corner of the big, square room ; and a flax 
and a spinning-wheel had their places in another. A 
farm-house was not considered well furnished in those 
days without these useful implements, nor was a house- 
wife considered accomplished who could not card, spin, 
and weave. Angeline carded her own wool, spun her 
own yarn, and weaved the best homespun made in the 
settlement ; and had enough for their own use and some 
to sell at the store. In addition to that there was no 
.housewife more expert at the flax- wheel, and her home- 
made linen was famous from one end to the other of the 
Tappan Zee. Hanz was, indeed, so skilful in the art of 
raising, hetcheling, and dressing flax, that all the neigh- 
bors wanted to borrow his hetchel. And if needs be he 
could make reeds and shuttles for the loom, while Ange- 
line always used harnesses of her own make. And so 
industrious was this good wife that you could rarely 
pass the house of a night without hearing the hum of 
the wheel or the clink of the loom. 

The good people about Nyack were honest in those 
days, paid their debts, were happy in their very sim- 
plicity, and had no thought of sending to Paris either 
for their fabrics or their fashions. 

Now Angeline’s father was a worthy blacksmith, an 
honest and upright man, who lived hard by, had a house 
of his own, and owed no man a shilling. This worthy 
blacksmith had two daughters, Angeline and Margaret, 
both remarkable for their good looks, and both blessed 
with loving natures. And it was said by the neighbors 


ANCIENT HEADS OF THE FAMILY. lb 

tliat the only flaw in tlie character of this good man s 
family was made by pretty Margaret, who went away 
with and married one Gosler, a travelling mountebank. 
This man, it is true, asserted that he was a Count in his 
own country, and that misfortune had brought him to 
what he was. His manners were, indeed, those of a 
gentleman ; and there were people enough who believed 
him nothing more than a spy sent by the British to find 
out what he could. 


CHAPTER II. 


COMING INTO THE WORLD. 

It was mentioned in the last chapter that Hanz Too- 
dleburg had seen twenty years of the happiest of wed' 
ded life ; and yet that Angeline had not increased his 
joys with an offspring. Thoughtless people made much 
ado about this, and there were enough of them in the 
settlement to get their heads together and say all sorts 
of unkind things to Hanz concerning this family failing. 
I verily believe that the time of one-half of the human 
family is engaged seeking scandal in the misfortunes of 
the other. And I have always found that you got the 
ripest scandal in the smallest villages ; and Nyack was 
not an exception. No wonder, then, that Hanz had to 
bear his share of that slander which one-half the world 
puts on the other. Not an idle fellow at the inn, where 
Hanz would look in of an evening, but would have his 
sly joke. Many a time he had to “ stand ” cider and 
ale for the company, and considered he got off cheap at 
that. And when they drank his health, it was with 
insinuating winks and nods ; one saying : 

“ What a pity. He ought to have somebody to leave 
his little farm to.” 

(C Yes,” another would interrupt ; “ if he had a son 
he'd be sure to leave him the secret of Kidd’s treas- 
ure.” 

The gossips of the village were to change their tune 
soon. Dame rumor had been whispering it around for 
a month that there was something in the wind at Too- 

dleburg’s. And, to put it more plainly, it was added 
16 


COMING INTO THE WORLD. 


17 

that Hanz was soon to be made a happy man by the 
appearance of a little Toodleburg. This change, or 
rather apparent change, in the prospects of the family 
did not relieve Hanz from the tax for ale and cider levied 
on him by the idle fellows at the inn. Indeed, he had 
to stand just twice the number of treats in return for 
the compliments paid him as a man and a Christian. 
It was noticed, also, that the Dominie took tea more 
frequently at Hanz’s table ; and that Critchel, the little 
snuffy doctor, who had practised in the settlement for a 
quarter of a century, and, indeed, assisted in bringing 
at least one-half of its inhabitants into the world, and 
of course was considered very safe in such cases, had 
increased his visits at the house. 

Now these honest old burghers had almanacs made 
with strict regard to truth, and if they prognosticated 
a storm it was sure to come. They would not consider 
it safe to navigate the Tappan Zee on a day fixed by the 
almanac for a storm. On the 5th day of January, 1805, 
in the almanac that never failed Hanz, there was this : 
“Look out for a snowstorm.” This time, however, 
the snow, if not the storm, was ahead of the almanac. 
Indeed, it had been falling slowly and gently for two 
days ; and a white sheet of it, at least three inches 
deep, covered the ground on the morning of the 5th. 
The weather had changed during the night, and now 
the air was sharp and cold. Dark, bleak clouds hung 
along the horizon in the northeast, the distant hills 
stood out sharp and cold, and a chilling wind whispered 
and sighed through the leafless trees. Then the wind 
grew stronger and stronger, the snow fell thicker and 
faster, making fantastic figures in the air, then dancing 
and scudding to the force of the gale, and shutting the 
opposite shore from sight. Nyack lay buried in a storm h 


18 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


and the Tappan Zee was in a tempest. Snow drifted 
through the streets, up the lanes, over the houses, and 
put night-caps on the mountain tops. Snow danced 
into rifts in the roads and across fields, and sent the 
traveller to the inn for shelter. Lowing cattle sought 
the barn-yard for shelter, or huddled together under 
the lee of some hay-stack, covered with snow. Night 
came, and still the snow fell, and the wind blew in all 
its fury. 

It was on that cold, stormy night that a bright light 
might have been seen burning in the little house where 
Hanz Toodlehurg lived. The storm had shook its frame 
from early morning ; and now the windows rattled, dis- 
cordant sounds were heard on the veranda, wind sighed 
through the crevices, and fine snow rifted in under the 
door and through the latch-hole, and tossed itself into 
little drifts on the floor. Nyack was buried in a storm 
that night. There was an old clock on the mantle- 
piece, and it kept on ticking, and its ticks could he 
heard above the storm. And the bright oak fire in the 
great fireplace threw out shadows that flitted over the 
great loom, and the wheels, and the festoons of dried 
apples, and the pumpkins that hung from the beams 
overhead. And old Deacon, the faithful watch-dog, 
lay coiled up on the flag hearth-stone. 

The old clock had nearly marked the hour of mid- 
night as Hanz came out of the little room in an appa- 
rently agitated state of mind. The dog raised his head 
and moved his tail as Hanz approached the fire and 
threw some sticks on. “ Dere’s no postponin’ it ; and 
it sthorms so,” muttered Hanz, shaking his head. Then 
he put on his big coat and boots, drew his cap over his 
ears, and went out into the storm, leaving the big dog 
on guard. How he struggled through the snow that 


COMING INTO THE WORLD. 


19 


night, what difficulty he had in waking up his two 
nearest neighbors, and getting one of them to send his 
son for Doctor Critchel, and what was said about such 
things always happening of such a night, I will leave 
to the imagination of my reader. 

It was nearly an hour before Hanz returned, bringing 
with him two stout, motherly-looking dames. The 
storm had handled their garments somewhat roughly, 
and they were well covered with snow. The old dog 
was pleased to see them, and wagged them a welcome, 
and made sundry other signs of his affection. And 
when they had shaken the snow from their garments, 
and taken seats by the fire, Hanz gave them fresh pipes, 
which they lighted and proceeded to enjoy while he 
went to preparing something warm for their stomachs, 
and doing various other little things regarded as indis- 
pensable on such an occasion. 

The storm had caught the little house by the shoul- 
ders, and was giving it one of its most violent shakes, 
when the dog suddenly started up, gave a growl, then 
walked solemnly to the door and listened. A footstep 
in the old veranda, then the stamping of feet, and a 
knock at the door came. It was Critchel, the little 
snuffy doctor, who entered, looking for all the world 
like an enlarged snow-ball. These were the occasions 
in which the doctor rose into the most importance, and 
as his coming had been waited with great anxiety, great 
efforts were made by those present to assure him of the 
esteem in which he was held. Even the dog would not 
go to his accustomed place on the hearth until he had 
caressed the doctor at least a dozen times. Although 
held in great respect by the settlers, Critchel was what 
might be called a shabby-looking little man, for his 
raiment.consistcd of a brown coat, which he had worn 


20 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


threadbare, a pair of greasy pantaloons that were in 
shreds at the bottom, a spotted vest, and a Spitlesfield 
neckerchief. Indeed, he was as antique in his dress as 
in his ideas of the science of medicine. He had a round, 
red face, a short, upturned red nose, and a very bald 
head, which Hanz always declared held more sense than 
people were willing to give him credit for. There was 
no quainter figure than this familiar old doctor as seen 
mounted on his big-headed and clumsy-footed Canadian 
pony, his saddle-bags well filled with pills and powders, 
and ready to bleed or blister at call. He was considered 
marvelously skilful, too, at drawing teeth and curing 
the itch, with which the honest Dutch settlers were 
occasionally afflicted. I must mention, also, that an 
additional cause of the great respect shown him by the 
.settlers was that he took his pay in such things as they 
raised on their little farms and could best spare. 


CHAPTER III. 


THE NEW COMER. 


The storm ceased its fury at four o'clock, and a cold, 
bright, and calm morning succeeded. The hills stood 
out in sharp, clear outlines, mother earth had put on 
her cleanest cap, and there was not a ripple on all the 
Tappan Zee. Hanz Toodleburg was now the happiest 
man in Nyack, for Heaven had blessed his house and 
heart during the morning with as plump and healthy a 
boy as ever was seen. There was a fond mother and a 
happy father in the little house now ; and the sweet, 
innocent babe, their first born, was like flowers strewn 
along their road of life. It was something to live 
for, something to hope for, something to brighten 
their hopes of the future, and to sweeten their love- 


dream. 

In spite of the snow drifts, news of this important 
event ran from one end to the other of the settlement 
before the sun was an hour up, and set it all aglow. 
The roadmaster was early at the door to warn Hanz out 
to break roads, but excused him when he heard how 
happy a man he had been made during the night. And 
when the merry men came along with their oxen, and 
their sledges, and their drag-logs, ploughing through 
and tossing the snow aside, and making a way for the 
traveller, there were cheers given for honest Hanz and 
the little gentleman who had just come to town. And 
as they ploughed along through the drifts, they struck 
up a merry song, which so excited Hanz's emotions that 


21 


22 


TIIE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


lie could not resist tlie temptation to put on his coat and 
follow them. And when they reached Titus Bright’s 
inn that ruddy-faced host met them at the door and bade 
them welcome under his roof, and invited them to drink 
flip at his expense. Hanz was treated and complimented 
in steaming mugs, and the health and happiness of 
mother and son were not forgotten. Even the Dominie 
was sent for, and made to drink flip and tell a story, 
which he did with infinite good humor. Then the 
school-master, who was not to he behind any of them 
when there was flip in the wind, looked in to pay his 
compliments to Hanz, for the snow had closed up his 
little school-house for the day. But, in truth, the peda- 
gogue had a weakness he could not overcome, and when 
.invited to take flip tossed off so many mugs as com- 
pletely to loose his wits, though his tongue ran so nimbly 
that he was more than a match for the Dominie, who 
declined discussing a question of religion with him, but 
offered to tell a story for every song he would sing. 
Four mugs of flip and two songs and the school-master 
went into a deep sleep in his chair, where he remained 
for the rest of the day. 

The question as to who should name the young gen- 
tleman at Hanz’s house was now discussed. The names 
of various great men were suggested, such as George 
Washington and Thomas Jefferson. Hanz shook his 
head negatively at the mention of these. “It vas not 
goot to give a poy too pig a name ; t-makes urn prout 
ven da grows up,” he said. It was finally agreed that 
the young gentleman should be called Titus Bright, after 
the little ruddy-faced inn-keeper. And the little man 
was so pleased with the idea of having his name en- 
grafted on that of the Toodleburg family, that he 
•promised a fat turkey and the best pig of the litter for 


THE NEW COMER. 


23 


the christening dinner. More flip was now drank, 
and the merry party shook hands and parted in the 
best of temper. 

Hanz felt that as Heaven had blessed him and Ange- 
line with this fine boy, and so increased their joys, he 
must do something generous for his friends. So, on the 
morning following he sent the Dominie a pig and a peck 
of fine flour, for which that quaint divine thanked him 
and prayed Heaven that he might send more. He gave 
the school-master a big pipe and tobacco enough to last 
him a month. He also ordered the tailor to make the 
pedagogue a new suit of homespun, something the poor 
man had not had for many a day. School-mastering 
was not a business men got rich at in those days, and 
poor Wiggins, for such was his name, had a hard time 
to keep the wolf from his door. Indeed, he thought 
himself well paid with four dollars a week and his 
victuals, which he got around among the parents of his 
scholars. His worldly goods consisted of little else 
than his birch and pipe, and the shabby clothes on his 
back. And as the length of his engagements depended 
on his good behavior, which was none of the best, he 
was frequently seen tramping from village to village in 
search of a job. 

As for Doctor Critchel, Hanz felt that he owed him a 
debt of gratitude he could never pay, even were he to 
give him the farm. It was no use offering the doctor a 
new suit of clothes, as he was never known to wear such 
things. As for snuff-boxes, he had at least a dozen. 
Hanz sent him a goose to roast for his dinner, a fat 
sheep, and a bag of extra flour, just from the mill. 

I may have been too particular in describing how and 
when this young gentleman came into the world, but 


24 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


my reason for it is that there may be those among my 
readers who will recognize the great and very distin- 
guished family of Yon Toodleburg, which not many 
years ago amazed New York with its brilliancy, and be 
anxious to know some of the ups and downs of its earl* 
history. 


CHAPTER IV. 


CHANGED PROSPECTS. 

Twelve years have passed since that stormy night 
when Titus Bright Toodleburg — for the young gentle- 
man as I have said before, was named after the inn- 
keeper, came into the world. Great changes have taken 
place since then. Tite, as the neighbors all call him, is 
now a bright, intelligent boy, and a great favorite in the 
village. Hanz and Angeline are proud of him, and he 
promises to he the joy of their declining years. Hanz had 
always held to the opinion that men with too much learn- 
ing were dangerous to the peace of a neighborhood, inas- 
much as it caused them to neglect their farms and take 
to pursuits in which the devil was served and honest 
people made beggars. He had, however, sent Tite to 
school, and now the young gentleman could read, write, 
and cypher ; and this, he declared, was learning enough 
to get a man safe through the world if he hut followed 
an honest occupation and saved his money. In addi- 
tion to so much learning, the young gentleman had 
early discovered an enterprising spirit, and a remarka- 
ble taste for navigation. When only six years old he 
had his tiny sloops and schooners, rigged by himself, 
on every duck-pond in the neighborhood. And he could 
sail them with a skill remarkable in one so young. 
Indeed, these duck-ponds were a source of great annoy- 
ance to Angeline, for whenever one of Tite’s crafts met 
with an accident he would wade to its relief, no matter 
what the condition or color of the water. 


26 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


Hanz shook his head, and felt that no good would 
come of this taste for the sea on the part of Tite. He 
intended to bequeath him the farm, so that he could 
spend his life like an honest man in raising good vege- 
tables for the Hew York market. Following the sea, 
Hanz urged, was a very dangerous occupation, and 
where one man made any money by it, more than a dozen 
lost their lives by storms. But Tite was not to he put 
off by such arguments. The spirit of adventure was in 
the hoy, and all other objects had to yield to his natural 
inclinations. And now, at the age of twelve, we find 
Tite a smart, sprightly cabin-boy, on board the good 
sloop Heinrich, making the voyage to New York and 
back once a week, and taking his first lessons in prac- 
tical seamanship. 

Wonderful changes had been developed along the 
beautiful Hudson during these twelve years. People in 
the country said New York was getting to be a very 
big, and a very wicked city. Already her skirmishers, 
in a line of little houses, were pushed beyond the canal, 
and were obliterating the cow-paths. The honest old 
Dutch settlers shrugged their shoulders, and said it was 
not a good sign to see people get rich so fast. Indeed, 
they declared that these fast and extravagant New 
Yorkers, who were building great houses and sending 
big ships to all parts of the world, would bring ruin on 
the country. 

A ship of five hundred tons had been added to the 
old London line, and her great size was an object of 
curiosity. But the man who projected her was regarded 
by careful merchants as very reckless, and not a safe 
man to trust. 

That which troubled the minds of these peaceable old 
settlers most was Mr. Fulton and his steamboat. Steam 


CHANGED PROSPECTS. 


27 


they declared to be a very dangerous thing. And, as 
for this Mr. Fulton, he should be sent to an insane asy- 
lum, before he destroyed all his friends, and lost all his 
money in this dangerous undertaking. He might navi- 
gate the river with a big tea-kettle in the bottom of his 
boat, but he would be sure to set all the houses along 
the river on fire. And who was to pay the damages ? 
Steam was, however, a reality, and the little Fire Fly 
went puffing and splashing up and down the river, 
alarming and astonishing the people along its banks. 
She could make the voyage from the upper end of the 
Tappan Zee to New York in a day, no matter how the 
wind blew. Hanz Toodleburg called the Fire Fly an 
invention of the devil, and nobody else. The brigh 
blaze of her furnaces, and the long trail of fire and 
sparks issuing from her funnel of a dark night, gave a 
spectre-like appearance to her movements, that rather 
increased a belief amongst the superstitious that she 
was really an invention of the evil one, sent for some 
bad purpose. 

A meeting was called at Hanz Toodleburg’s house to 
consider the dangerous look of things along the river. 
The Dominie and the schoolmaster, and all the wise 
men in the settlement, were present, and gave their 
opinions with the greatest gravity. If this Mr. Fulton, 
it was argued, could, with the aid of the evil one, build 
these steamboats to go to New York and back in a day, 
why there was an end to the business of sloops and 
barges. And if the honest men who owned these ves- 
sels were thrown Out of business, how were they to get 
bread for their families ? These new inventions, Hanz 
argued, would be the ruin of no end of honest people. 

The schoolmaster, who assumed great wisdom on all 
such occasions, and who had tossed off several pots of beer 


28 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


during the evening, put the whole matter in a much more 
encouraging light. He had read something about steam, 
he said, and knew that it was a very dangerous thing for a 
man to trifle with. Mr. Fulton had built his steamboat 
one hundred and nine feet long; and he could get to Hew 
York and hack in a day, if nothing happened to his 
boiler, which was all the time in danger of bursting. 
Then if the boiler bursted, very likely the boat and all 
in her would go to the bottom. Just let that happen 
once in the Tappan Zee, and there would be an end to 
Mr. Fulton and his invention for getting people to Hew 
York quick. Just let him set the Tappan Zee afire 
once, and people would make such a storm that nothing 
more would be heard of his inventions. When there 
was such danger of losing one’s life travelling in this 
way, what careful farmer, who had a family depending 
on him, would think of either going himself or sending 
his produce to market in such a way? There was no 
wisdom in the thing. The people would stick to the 
sloops. That was the only safe way for sensible people 
to get to market. Let them stick to the sloops, and 
Mr. Fulton would not build a castle of what he got by 
his inventions. 

The meeting was highly gratified at what the school- 
master had said, and, indeed, felt so much relieved that 
Hanz ordered a keg of fresh beer to be tapped. These 
noisy, splashing steamboats would frighten people, and 
by that means the good old-fashioned way of getting to 
market would not be interfered, with. It was also a 
source of great relief to these honest people, that when 
those extravagant Hew Yorkers had spent all their 
money on such wild and dangerous experiments, they 
would be content to stay at home and mind their own 
business. Another source of great alarm to these honest 


CHANGED PROSPECTS. 


29 


people was that several New Yorkers had come to Nyack, 
and were building large houses, and otherwise setting 
examples of extravagance to their children, when it was 
reported that they did not pay their honest debts in 
town. The people of Hudson, too, were going wild 
over a project for establishing a South-sea Company, 
and sending ships to the far off Pacific ocean — where the 
people were, it had been said, in the habit of eating 
their friends — to catch whales. Now, as the people of 
Hudson had no more money than was needed at home, 
this dangerous way of spending all they had was not to 
he justified. 

Satisfied that they had settled a question of grave 
importance, and in which the great interests of the 
country were involved, these honest Dutchmen smoked 
another pipe and drank another mug of beer, and then 
went quietly to their homes, feeling sure that the world 
and all Nyack would he a gainer by what they had 
done. 


CHAPTER V. 


TITE TOODLEBURG AND A MODERN REFORMER. 

Young Tite Toodleburg has grown up to be a boy of 
sixteen. A bright, handsome fellow he is, every inch 
a sailor, and full of the spirit of adventure. There is 
something more than Dutch blood in Tite, and it begins 
to show itself. His figure is erect and slender, his hair 
soft and flaxen, and his blue eyes and fresh, smiling 
face, almost girlish in its expression, gave to his regular 
features a softness almost feminine. And yet there was 
something manly, resolute, and even daring in his 
actions. There was no such thing as fear in his nature. 
He had acquired such a knowledge of seamanship that 
he could handle the good sloop Heinrich quite as skil- 
fully as the skipper, and, indeed, make the voyage to 
New York as promptly as the greatest navigator on the 
Tappan Zee. He was expert, too, at taking in and 
delivering out cargo, could keep the sloop's account, 
and drive as good a trade as any of them with the mer- 
chants in Fly Market. In this way Tite made a host 
of friends, who began to look forward to the time when 
he would have a sloop of his own, and be in a way to 
do friendly acts for them, perhaps to make a fortune 
for himself. 

Tite thought very differently. Navigating the river 
in a sloop, to be passed by one of Mr. Fulton's steam- 
boats, was not the sort of sea-faring that suited his 
ambition. He had seen big ships come home, after long 
voyages, and the majesty of their appearance excited 
his spirit of adventure. He had also spent his evenings 


TITE TOODLEBURG AND A MODERN REFORMER. 31 

reading the works of celebrated navigators and travel- 
lers ; and these very naturally increased his curiosity to 
know more of the world and see the things they had 
seen. He had also looked out through the Harrows of 
Hew York harbor, and his young heart had yearned to be 
on the broad ocean beyond. If he could only master all 
the mysteries of Bowditch, be a skilful navigator, and 
capable of sailing a ship to any part of the world, and 
see strange things and people — that day might come, 
he thought to himself. He had listened, too, for hours 
at a time, to the stories of old sailors who had come on 
board the sloop while in port. One had been to India, 
and another to Ceylon ; and both told wonderful stories 
concerning the voyages they had made and the people 
they had met. Another had seen every port in the 
Horth Pacific, had been wrecked on Queen Charlotte’s 
Island, and told wonderful stories of his adventures in 
rounding Cape Horn. His adventures among the South 
Sea Islands were of the most romantic kind, and colored 
so as to incite the ambition of a venturesome young lad 
like Tite to the highest pitch. There was another old 
sailor who had sailed the South and Horth Pacific, had 
killed his score of whales, and been as many times 
within an inch of losing his own life. 

These stories so fired the young gentleman’s imagi- 
nation that he resolved to try his fortune at a whaling 
voyage as soon as the people of Hudson sent their first 
ship out. There was the wide world before him, and 
perhaps he might find the means of making a fortune 
in some distant land. But how was he to break this 
resolution to his kind parents, whom he loved so dearly? 
What effect would it have on his mother, who doted on 
him, and for whom he had the truest affection ? His 
mind hung between hope for the future and duty to his 


32 


THE VOST T00DLEBURGS. 


parents. Regularly every Saturday afternoon Tite had 
come home, received his mother's blessing, and put his 
earnings into her hands for safe-keeping. There would 
be an end of this if he went to the South Sea. Then 
his parents were both getting old, and would soon 
need a protector, and if anything serious happened 
to them during his absence how could he ever forgive 
himself. Week after week and month after month 
did Tite ponder these questions in his mind, and 
still his resolution to see the world grew stronger and 
stronger. 

It was about this time that there settled in Hyack a 
queer and very inquisitive sort of man of the name of 
Bigelow Chapman. He was a restless, discontented 
sort of man, very slender of figure, with sharp, well- 
defined features, keen gray eye, and wore his dark hair 
long and unkept. His manner was that of a man dis- 
contented with the world, which, he said, needed a great 
deal of reforming ; indeed, that it could be reformed, 
ought to be reformed, and that he was the man to do it. 
He had been the founder of Dogtown, Massachusetts, 
where he had built up a very select community of keen- 
witted men and women — just to set an example to the 
world of how people ought to live. Dolly Chapman, 
his wife, (for what would a reformer be without a wife,) 
was a ponderous woman, weighing more than two hun- 
dred pounds, and a proof that even in matrimony the 
opposites meet. She was a fussy, ill-bred woman, spoke 
with a strong nasal twang, and a sincere believer 
in all the reforms advocated by her husband, though 
she differed with him on one or two points of religion. 
And there was Mattie Chapman, a bright, bouncing 
girl of fifteen, with rosy cheeks and fair hair, ambitious 
for one of her age, and evidently inclined to make a 


TITE TOODLEBURG AND A MODERN REFORMER. 33 


show in the world. These constituted the Chapman 
family. 

Dogtown, of which I made mention, was a creation 
of Chapman's. With it he was to demonstrate how 
the world could he reformed, and how the prejudices 
were to he driven from other people's minds. Strong- 
minded people from various towns in Massachusetts 
came and settled in Dogtown, invested their money, 
were to do an equal share of work, and receive an equal 
share of profits, and live together as happily as lambs. 
But Dogtown did not long continue a paradise. Indeed, 
it soon became famous for two things : for the name of 
Bigelow Chapman, and for having more crazy and 
quarrelsome people in it than could he found in any 
other town in Massachusetts, which was saying a good 
deal. The brothers and sisters, for such they called 
themselves, got to quarrelling among themselves on 
matters of politics and religion, though charity was a 
thing they made no account of. In truth, there was 
more politics than religion in their preaching. 

Chapman constituted himself treasurer of the com- 
munity, and some little private speculations of his led 
to a belief among the brothers and sisters that his mind 
was not solely occupied with schemes for reforming the 
world. To tell the truth, Bigelow Chapman was not 
so great a fool as his followers. He had intended, when 
Dogtown got thoroughly under way, to sell out, put the 
money in his pocket, and employ his genius somewhere 
else. He, however, undertook the enterprise of build- 
ing a church on speculation, being persuaded to do so 
by an outside Christian. 

The church was to be a large, handsome building, 
with a butcher’s shop and a grocery, a shoe store and a 
confectionery in the basement, and a school and a dancing 


34 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


academy up stairs ; so that the brothers and sisters 
could get everything they wanted, religion included, in 
one locality. But the enterprise failed for want of funds 
to finish it, and Dogtown went to the dogs, and the 
Chapman family to Nyack. Report has it that the 
church was afterwards finished and converted into an 
insane asylum, where several of the brothers and sisters 
lived for the rest of their lives. 

It was hinted that Chapman had brought some money 
to Nyack with him, but exactly how much no one knew. 
The only thing positively known about him at, that 
time was that he had a great number of new ideas, all 
of which he was in great haste to develope. Indeed, he 
soon had Nyack in a state of continual agitation. He 
declared it his first duty to open the eyes of the Dutch 
settlers to truth and right ; then to get them to think- 
ing ; and finally to make fortunes for all of them. He 
begun business, however, by quarrelling with nearly 
everybody in the village, and asserting that he knew 
more than all of them. 

Twice he had Titus Bright, the inn-keeper, up before 
the magistrate and fined for selling liquor in opposition 
to law. He proclaimed it highly immoral to sell liquor 
at all, and told Bright to his teeth that no honest man 
would do it. For this he had been twice kicked out of 
the inn by Bright, who damned him as a meddling 
varlet, not to he tolerated in a peaceable village. Again 
he had Bright up before the magistrate, who justified 
the aggression, but fined the aggressor ten dollars a kick, 
which Bright considered cheap enough considering what 
was got for his money. Bright declared it a principle 
with him to give his customers what they wanted, and 
let them be the judge of their own necessities. Bige- 
low Chapman held that mankind was a big beast, to 


TITE TOODLEBURG AND A MODERN REFORMER. 35 

be subdued and governed by laws made for his subjec- 
tion. It never occurred to him, however, that there 
might be reason in the opinions of others. Finding, 
however, that he could not get the better of Bright in 
any other way, he organized a company and set up an 
opposition tavern, where a traveller could feel at home 
and have none of the annoyances of beer. The new 
inn was to be conducted on strictly temperance princh 
pies, and the price of board was to be reduced a dollai 
a week. But the principle of temperance was carried 
out so rigidly in the fare that travellers, although 
treated politely enough, found it difficult to get any- 
thing to eat, to say nothing of drink. 

While this was going on Mrs. Bigelow Chapman was 
busying herself getting up an anti-tea-and-coffee-drink- 
ing society. She declared that this coffee and tea- 
drinking was nothing less than an oppression, breaking 
down people’s health and making them poor, while the 
grocers who sold the stuff were getting rich. It was 
evident, also, that she was carrying her principles out 
on the table of the new inn. However commendable 
these reforms might be in the eyes of a true reformer, 
they were not exactly the thing to satisfy the wants of 
hungry travellers. The new inn soon got up an excel- 
lent reputation for giving its customers nothing but 
politeness and clean linen. This not being satisfactory 
to the travelling public generally, the establishment 
had to close its doors for want of customers. Chapman 
was surprised at this. He could not understand why 
reformers were not better appreciated about Nyack. 
The stock-holders, however, had lost all their money, 
and were glad to sell out to Chapman, which they did 
for a trifle, and that was all he wanted. 


36 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


People Began to inquire what the big building would 
next be turned into. Mrs. Chapman and her dear hus- 
band, as she called him, were always projecting some- 
thing new. Indeed, she saw two fortunes in the future 
where Chapman only saw one. The thought invaded 
her mind that there was a fortune to he made by turn- 
ing the big house into a great moral progress hoarding- 
school for young ladies, where ‘‘'all the proprieties” 
would be strictly attended to. Yes, “ the proprieties ” 
would take with steady-minded people. She could 
attend to the proprieties, and dear Chapman could look 
after the little money affairs. She did not want to 
trouble herself with the sordid things of this world; 
she only wanted to reform it. And to do that you must 
begin at the bottom. You must teach young people, 
and especially young ladies, the value of reforms. In 
that way you enable them to reform their husbands 
when they get them, and also make them comprehend 
the value of new ideas. As for old people, she declared 
it time wasted to try to get new ideas into their heads. 

Chapman congratulated his dear wife on this new and 
grand idea. He agreed with her that a woman was 
just the thing to straighten up a husband in need of 
mental and physical reformation. But it would not do 
to start the enterprise until you could get people to take 
stock enough to insure a sound* basis. He did not care 
about money himself, still it was necessary to the suc- 
cess of all great enterprises. And seeing that the inn 
had failed, though based on great moral principles, he 
was not quite sure that the people would hasten to take 
stock in the new enterprise. 

It was also an objection with Chapman that with such 
an institution there would be nothing to run opposition to 
except a few beer-drinking school-masters, who got their 


TITE TOODLEBURG AND A MODERN REFORMER. 37 

victuals and fifteen dollars a month for driving a knowl- 
edge of the rule of three into the heads of little Dutch 
children. How different it would be with a church. 
And then the big inn could he made such an excellent 
church, at such a small expense. A man owning a 
church could feel himself strong in both politics and 
religion, and have all the quarrels he wanted. Chap- 
man was delighted with this new idea of his ; and his 
good wife supposed it was infinitely superior to her own. 
It was another proof to her that there was no greater 
man in the world than her dear Chapman. Once get 
the church going, and with a preacher of the Dogtown 
school, to preach out and out transcendentalism, and 
another ism or two, and they could get up an opposition 
that would be popular with the people. In that way 
the thing would he sure to go. 

Chapman declared this a golden opportunity. He 
had felt for some time like getting up something that 
would drive the devil and all the Dutchmen out of 
Nyack and into the Tappan Zee, and establish an entire 
new order of things. 

It was agreed between Chapman and his good wife 
that the church should he put on its legs without delay ; 
that the work of reforming Nyack and the rest of the 
world should begin at once. As funds were necessary to 
all great enterprises, and Chapman was inclined at all 
times to husband his own, the good woman got up a 
regular season of religious tea-parties, exclusively “ for 
ladies.” Mrs. Chapman was intent on popularizing 
the enterprise, and to that end had inserted on her cards 
of invitation, “ exclusively for ladies.” There was 
nothing like tea when you wanted to make a great 
reform movement popular. Chapman had more than 
once said that woman, under the inspiration of tea, made 


38 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


a mighty engine in moving the world. Under its influ- 
ence they gave enlargement and development to pro- 
gressive ideas. It had been charged that great generals 
won their most celebrated battles under the influence of 
strong drink. He had known great generals to win 
great battles under the inspiration of tea alone. Tea 
and women were prodigious in their way. 

The tea parties were not only got on their legs, but 
soon became very popular. There were women enough 
in Nyack to give them, and neither rain nor hail would 
keep them home of a Thursday evening. The great 
value of progressive ideas was thoroughly discussed 
over these cups; and the fact that their husbands were to 
he brought into a line of subjugation not before antici- 
pated had an inspiring effect. In short, female Nyack 
began to carry a high head, and to make male Nyack 
feel that he was no longer master in its own house. 
Dolly Chapman presided at these tea-parties with that 
smartness peculiar to women of her class, taking par- 
ticular pains to explain how much could be done for 
Nyack and the world — if only the women could get the 
direction of things into their own hands. A church as 
the means of carrying out these new and grand ideas 
was exactly what was wanted. The tea-party women 
all took up the idea, and the enterprise was made so 
popular that each resolved herself into a begging com- 
mittee, and soon had collected the sum of seven hun- 
dred dollars, an amount sufficient. to put the thing on 
its legs. 


CHAPTER VI. 


A LITTLE FAMILY AFFAIR. 

While the heads of the Chapman family were en- 
gaged* in their great work of reform, and Hanz Tpodle- 
burg, as the head of the Dutch settlers, was preparing 
to resist all their efforts, Mattie Chapman and young 
Tite were engaging in a matter of a very different 
nature. A little flame of love had begun to burn in 
their youthful hearts, and was giving out such mani- 
festations of tenderness. I have noticed that when once 
the little under-current of love begins to ebb and flow 
in young and innocent hearts, it will break over what- 
ever obstacles you put in its way, and rarely stops until 
it has reached that haven of happiness called matri- 
mony. The parents of these young people seemed to 
have been cast in opposite moulds, mentally and physi- 
cally. Their modes of thought, their expectations, and 
their manner of living differed entirely. Hanz Toodle- 
burg was simple-minded, honest, contented with his lot 
in the world, smoked his pipe, and lived in peace with 
his neighbors. And these he esteemed the greatest 
blessings a man could enjoy. Chapman was restless, 
designing, ambitious of wealth, and ready always to 
quarrel with those who did not fall in with his opinions. 
Indeed, he never seemed happier than when he had a 
quarrel on hand ; and he had the rare tact of turning a 
quarrel into profit. 

It was very different with the young people, In their 
innocent hearts the fires of love had been kindled, and 

39 


40 


THE VON TOOHLEBURGS. 


they were burning brighter and brighter every day . The 
thought that they should incur opposition from their 
parents never entered their minds. They would meet 
together of a Sunday afternoon, and walk by the river 
side. They would meet and talk over the gate as Tite 
passed and re-passed Chapman’s house. And Mattie was 
sure to meet him at the gate as he passed on his way to 
New York. And then there would be an affectionate 
good-bye, and Mattie would watch him until he had 
disappeared beyond the hill. The ordinary observer 
would have seen in Tite’s blushes and confused manner, 
whenever he met Mattie, how the current of his love 
was setting. And when he returned at the end of the 
week there was something for Mattie, some little token 
of his affection ; a proof that he liad cherished her in 
his thoughts while absent. 

This little love affair did not fail to attract the atten - 
tion of the Chapman family. Nor was honest Han*; 
Toodleburg indifferent to what was going on. Indeed, 
the gossips at the inn had joked Hanz about it, hinting 
at a future connection of the two families. To all of 
which Hanz would reply that Tite was only a hoy yet, 
and had a good deal of other kinds of business to do 
before thinking of what sort of a wife he wanted. C( If 
ta torter ish like ta fader, sho quarrelsome, t’man what 
gets her for a vife don’t lives in t’house mit her,” Hanz 
would always conclude. 

Young as Tite was, he began to look on the matter 
seriously. The whaling voyage was still exciting his 
ambition, however, and he began to enquire of every one 
he thought likely to know, when the people of Hudson 
would send their first ship to the South Sea. Then the 
thought of leaving Mattie would depress his spirits, and 
for a time shake his resolution. The trouble with him 


A LITTLE FAMILY AFFAIR. 


41 


at first was how he could separate from his parents ; 
now his love for Mattie was added to his obstacles. 

Chapman had not failed to notice this little affair 
of the affections between the young people. He had 
noticed, also, that it had attracted the attention of his 
wife. But neither had spoken of it. In short, Chap- 
man was anxious to have his wife refer to it first, to see 
in what light she viewed it. And Mrs. Chapman was 
equally anxious to have her dear husband, as she called 
him, express an opinion on the subject before she gave 
one. He had once or twice noticed that when the 
young people were at the gate she would call Mattie 
and tell her it was time to come in ; that she ought 
not to stay there so long talking to a sailor-boy. Mattie 
would yield obedience with blushes and an air of reluc- 
tance, the meaning of which her mother properly under- 
stood. 

The truth of the matter was that the affair had engaged 
Chapman’s thoughts for some time ; and it suddenly 
occurred to him that the whole thing might he turned 
to profit. Toodleburg was a man of some consequence 
among the people; they had great confidence in his 
integrity, and implicitly believed him possessed of a 
secret that would make the fortune of every man in 
Nyack. He had been evolving that secret in his mind 
for some time, and if he could in any way get the con- 
fidence of Hanz, and obtain the secret, or allow himself 
to he used in connection with it, he could make money 
enough to live like a lord in New York. And that was 
exactly what Mrs. Chapman wanted. The good woman, 
however, had been so much engaged of late getting 
the new church on its legs, and negotiating for the 
services of the Beverend Warren Holbrook, of Dogtown, 
Massachusetts, who was to spread the doctrines of 


42 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


transcendentalism, and a variety of other isms, before 
the people, and turn Nyack out of doors, religiously 
speaking, that she felt that she had not performed her 
whole duty towards Mattie. 

There had been a religious tea-party at Chapman’s 
house, where the affair of the new church had been 
talked over, and the opening day arranged. Mrs. Chap- 
man was in her best dress, with a profusion of ribbons 
streaming down her hack, and a puffy cap on her head. 
She had received a letter from the Reverend Warren 
Holbrook, accepting the offer of three hundred dollars a 
year and board and washing, and saying, that in addi- 
tion to transcendentalism, he would advocate the equal- 
ity of the great human family. If these poor, benighted 
Dutch people who lived about Nyack would only he re- 
generated and made progressive. Mrs. Chapman found 
great consolation in this letter, and sat down to read it 
to her dear husband, who had moved up nearer to the 
lamp and opened the last great work on the new doc- 
trine. 

When she had finished reading it she paused for a 
moment, and then spoke. “ Have you noticed, my 
dear,” she enquired, and again hesitating, “what has 

been going on between our Mattie ?” Again she 

hesitated. 

Expecting what was coming, Chapman interposed by 
saying, “Don’t he afraid to speak, my darling ; I know 
what you mean.” 

“I meant,” resumed Mrs. Chapman, blushing and 
looking very serious, “I meant, have you noticed the 
attention that sailor-boy — (young Toodlebug did you 
call him?) horrors! what a name — was paying to our 
Mattie?” 

“Burg, my dear, not hug,” rejoined Chapman. 


A LITTLE FAMILY AFFAIR. 


43 


u People are beginning to talk about it, and they say 
such things l” The good woman blushed, and assumed 
an air of great seriousness. “ The young man may be 
well enough, but then the Toodlebugs are only a com- 
mon Dutch family/ ' 

“ Toodleburgs, my dear, not bugs. The name makes 
a great difference with some people/' rejoined Chap- 
man, correctively. “ Very natural, my dear, very nat- 
ural. The most natural thing in the world for young 
people to make love. And the most natural thing 
in the world is that people should talk about it. It is 
according* to the principles of true philosophy. You 
must not be alarmed, my dear, when you see young 
people make love. Harm rarely comes of it, and it 
generally ends in a very small affair/' 

“Yes, my dear," replied the good woman, “and 
experience has proved to me that it sometimes ends in 
a very large affair. A little flirtation between young 
people ' ' 

“Should be encouraged, my darling," interrupted 
Chapman. 

“ I was going to say," she continued, “ was not ob- 
jectionable. But* when looks come to be serious, the 
equality of things should be enquired into. Time's a 
coming when we may be rich, and live in New York, 
and be somebody, and move with the best of people. I 
looks forward to it, my dear ; and I am sure the enter- 
prises we have on hand will be a success. It will 
never do to marry our daughter to a sailor-boy, to say 
nothing of connecting ourselves to a common Dutch 
family " 

“You talk like a philosopher, my darling; but-I 
have known worse things done, and great results flow 
from them. That young man promises well, and as for 


44 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


old Hanz, he is a man of more importance than you 
think. Some of these Dutch people are slow, hut 
solid,” rejoined Chapman, shutting up the book. “I 
have an object in view, and this little, innocent flirta- 
tion may help to improve it. At least, it can do no 
harm.” 

“ It is not good to let anything go on that might lead 
to harm,” resumed the good woman. “ Mattie has 
good looks, and I intend that she shall have a polished 
education, and shine in society some day. You have 
always agreed with me, my dear, that it was good to 
look forward. How could Mattie shine in society with 
such a husband, and such a name ? The very name of 
Toodlebug would sink us. Yes, my dear, sink us right 
down ” 

“ Wrong again, my dear ; Tutle-burg. You may 
put an e in it instead of an r, if you please. That’s 
where the difference is,” interrupted Chapman. 

“ I don’t care, my dear; these polite people would 
turn up their noses, and get it Too-dle-bug. They are 
very nice on names. If the young man should get up 
in the world and keep a carriage, people would say 
e there goes Too-dle-bug’s carriage — oh! what a name. 
What low people they must have been.’ If they should 
own a house in the fashionable part of the city. We 
should both look forward to that, you know. Would’ nt 
it be a horrid name to read on the door ? Toodlebug !” 

“ Tutle-burg, my dear ; there’s a big difference,” in- 
terposed Mr. Chapman. 

“As you says ; but nice people would not pronounce i 
except with a bug,” continued the good woman, looking 
discomfiitted. “ You have given so much time to pro- 
gress and reforming the world, that you don’t under- 
stand these matters as well as I do. I am sure there 


A LITTLE FAMILY AFFAIR. 


45 


would be blushes and smiles enough over such a name. 
Think of our daughter being Mrs. Toodlebug, (I pro- 
nounce it with a b-u-g, you see,) and inviting nice peo- 
ple to her reception. There would be people enough at 
that reception to make light of the name. Yes, Mr. 
Chapman, you might as well have her married to a 
Mr. Straddlebug. It's so very vulgar, my dear.” 

“ As to that,” replied Chapman, “ the world is a great 
vulgarity, and only puts on politeness for appearance 
sake. The young man might have his name changed, 
or he might add something to it to soften it. How 
would you like Yon Toodleburg, my dear?” 

“ Never can be softened ; never ! The Yon would do 
something to lift a family up into respectability. And 
then, socially speaking, there was such a wide differ- 
ence between them distinguished Dutch families and 
them common Dutch families.” 

“What would you have me do about it, darling?” 
enquired Chapman, submissively. 

“ Oppose it, my dear !” replied Mrs. Chapman, bow- 
ing, and becoming earnest. “ Oppose it. You know 
how to oppose everything, and surely you can oppose 
this.” 

This reply troubled Chapman considerably. He had 
for once found something he would rather encourage 
than oppose. But he had a motive for his action, as 
will be seen hereafter. 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE TOWN MOVED WITH INDIGNATION. 

It was less than a week after the scenes we have de • 
scribed in the foregoing chapter took place, that the 
good sloop Heinrich arrived, having made her weekly 
voyage to Hew York and hack. A small, ill-favored 
man, with a very long red heard, and yery long red 
hair, might have been seen stepping ashore, with a book 
and an umbrella under his arm, and wending his way 
up the lane, followed by Tite, carrying a corpulent carpet- 
bag. There was a combative air about the little man, 
who stared with a pair of small, fierce eyes, through a 
pair of glaring spectacles at every one he met. He was 
dressed in a shabby black suit, that hung loosely on his 
lean figure. This, with a broad, rolling collar, a pair 
of russet brogans, and a common straw hat, turned up 
at one side, completed his wardrobe, and gave an odd 
appearance to the man. Indeed, the gentleman had no 
taste for the vanities of the world, and parted his hair 
in the middle to save trouble. The ordinary observer 
might easily have mistaken him for a school-master out 
of employment and in distress. That such a man was 
to upset the settled opinions of a big town, few persons 
would have believed. Such, however, was this odd- 
looking little man’s mission, and there was no end of 
new ideas contained in that little bumpy forehead of his. 

The new arrival was the much-expected Reverend 
Warren Holbrook, from Dogtown last. As I have said 
before, he looked askance and inquisitively at every one 
he met as he walked up the lane. He bowed, too, and 


THE TOWN MOVED WITn INDIGNATION. 47 

liad a smile for all the females ; then he enquired the 
name and condition of those who lived in each house he 
came to — how many children they had, and whether 
they were hoys or girls. Now he paused and rested on his 
umbrella when he had reached a hit of high ground, and 
gazed over Nyack generally, and then over the Tappan 
Zee. Here was the new field of the great labors before 
him. How often he had taken Dogtown by the neck 
and shaken her up severely. The day might come 
when he would have to take Nyack by the neck and 
give her a good shaking up, morally and religiously. 
Mrs. Chapman had written him to say that Nyack was 
a had place, secularly and otherwise. 

The whole Chapman family (including the big dog) 
was out at the door to welcome the stranger ; and such 
a warm greeting as he got. Mrs. Chapman assured 
him that the best in the house had been prepared for 
him, and that she had got' the town in a state of great 
anxiety to see him. To tell the truth, this busy, 
hustling woman had been blowing a noisy trumpet for 
him in advance, and enlisting a large amount of female 
;sympatliy by stating that he was preeminent as an advo- 
cate of woman’s rights in all things. 

Of course the Reverend Warren Holbrook’s arrival 
soon got noised over Nyack, and the female mind was 
in a state of great agitation. Before bed-time a num- 
ber of curious and somewhat aged women dropped in 
to pay their respects to the gentleman, and see for them- 
selves what this man of great natural gifts, who was to 
reform all Nyack and the world generally, was like. 

There was one member of the Chapman family, how- 
ever, not pleased with the way things were going, and 
that was Mattie. When the older Chapmans had taken 
their guest into the house, she embraced the opportunity 


48 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


to have a talk with Tite, and reproached him for what 
she had seen him do. 

“Now, Tite,” said she, looking earnestly into his 
face, “if you have any respect for me, never walk 
behind a man, carrying his carpet-hag — never! And 
such a looking man as that ! You are as good as he, 
or anybody else, and if you don’t think yourself so, 
other people wont think so for you. Never think you 
are not as good as somebody. Don’t act as a help 
for anybody, for if you do you will be set down for 
nobody all your life.” 

At first Tite hardly knew what to say in reply. The 
nature of the rebuke showed the deep interest Mattie 
felt in him. “If I had taken pay,” said Tite, hesi- 
tating, “’twould have been different. I carried his 
carpet-bag, I know, but then I did it as a favor ; and, 
as you saw, declined to take the sixpence he offered me. 
But I’ll do as you say, Mattie, and won’t do so again; 
for I want to please you, you know.” The words fell 
nervously from Tite’s lips, and there was a throbbing 
at the heart he could not suppress. 

“My mother,” resumed Mattie, in a frank, girlish 
manner, “brought this man Warren Holbrook into the 
house at Dogtown, and he got father into such a deal 
of trouble. He was always quarrelling with somebody. 
He got up a disturbance in the church. And then the 
church all went to pieces. Oh, what a church it was ! 
And mother thinks he’s such a nice man. I don’t. 
Don’t carry his carpet-bag again, Tite. Don’t make a 
menial of yourself for anybody.” After saying this 
she walked part of the way home with Tite, and then 
they parted with a sweet good-night. 

The following day being Sunday, and the Reverend 
Warren Holbrook having brought several prepared 


THE TOWN MOVED WITH INDIGNATION. 49 

sermons with him, service was held in the new church 
at the regular morning hour. The women gathered in 
great numbers, and nearly filled the church ; and the 
odd appearance of the little man, as he took his place 
in the pulpit, was a subject of general remark. 

His sermon, I may here state, was one of the most 
singular and pyrotechnical ever preached in Nyack. 
He began by saying that Christ had risen, and was with 
them in person. He had come to Nyack, he added, to 
tell the truth and preach to sinners, for he understood 
the devil had had things his own way for a long time 
in the town ; and he understood also there were sinners 
enough in Nyack to sink it. The world had reached 
a stage of wickedness when it needed reforming. It 
must he reformed, or it would sink under the weight 
of its wickedness. People were getting rich, and with 
great riches there always came pride and wickedness. 
He continued in this strain for nearly an hour, mixing 
up transcendentalism, rationalism, unitarianism, and 
a number of other isms, so unartistically as to astonish 
and confound his audience, and give his hearers some- 
thing to talk about for a week. 

Then he suddenly broke away from his disputed 
points, as he called them, and took up the subject of 
woman’s wrongs. “ My hearers,” said he, pausing and 
pointing upward with the fore-finger of his right hand, 
“What would the world be without woman? From 
the very beginning of the world she has been the victim 
of wrong, great wrong. Man has sinned against her 
by making her his inferior. God never intended that 
she should be the inferior of man. He never would 
have created her with a form so beautiful, and a voice 
so soft and musical, if he had not intended her for man’s 
superior. And the day will come, and come soon, too, 


50 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


when she will have her rights, and her voice will he 
heard in the government of the nation. The angel 
that she is ! Woman is a great power. She has made 
kings and conquerors, and she can unmake them. She 
has influenced the acts of statesmen, and made children 7 
of grave Senators. Yes, my hearers, her power can he 
made greater than the throne. And yet how few hus- 
bands appreciate their wives as they should do.” Here 
the reverend gentleman paused for a few seconds, and 
cast meaning glances at several of his male hearers, 
who were evidently not inclined to receive his remarks 
with favor. Indeed, Mr. Holbrook, while making a 
high bid for popularity with the female portion of his 
audience, was throwing an immense fire-brand into the 
family circle of a number of his hearers. 

££ My hearers, remember this/ ’ resumed this odd little 
man: ££ Manage a woman right, and you have a mighty 
power to carry out the greatest project the world ever 
saw.” 

Disjointed and illogical as this sermon was, it was 
just what Chapman and Mrs. Chapman wanted to put 
the church of the new ideas firm on its legs. It was 
popular with the women ; and with their favor Hol- 
brook could ride triumphantly over any number of 
quarrels. 

Mrs. Chapman intimated to another admiring female 
that the little man they had just listened to was very 
like an oyster — looked better when opened. In short, 
it was the general opinion of the women that Mr. Hol- 
brook had preached a very sensible sermon ; and they 
were delighted, notwithstanding what their husbands 
said to the contrary. ££ We have got a preacher now,” 
said the women, ££ who will stick up for our rights. 
You men have had it all your own way long enough.” 


THE TOWN MOVED WITH INDIGNATION. 51 

Some of the men, however, were not inclined to let 
these taunts pass quietly, declaring that they had never 
listened to such nonsense before. One shook his head, 
and declared that no good could come of such preach- 
ing, since there was no true religion in it. Another 
snapped his fingers, saying the man was not only a fool, 
but a mischief-maker. A third said all the trouble in 
the world had been made by just such meddlesome men. 
The church of great moral ideas might be a good enough 
church for some people ; but such a preacher as this 
made more infidels than honest men. 

The whole town soon got into a dispute as to whether 
the Keverend Warren Holbrook was a wise and good 
man, or simply a mischief-making egotist. The women 
took the side of Holbrook, and stuck to it, like true, 
women. He preached the right sort of religion, they 
said, and was a wise and good man, or he could not 
preach as he did. The men did not believe a word of 
it, but seeing that their wives were inclined to have it 
all their own way, and would not hear a word against 
the new preacher, quietly submitted, as men generally 
do. That is to say, they surrendered their authority. 

Chapman was delighted at the nice little turn his 
preacher had made in the affairs of the town. Nothing 
pleased him better than to have a dozen disputes on 
hand at a time. If only well nursed they could be all 
made profitable. Woman was the great pillar of Chap- 
man’s hopes. He had always regarded her as the great 
foundation of any church. She could make it popular 
if she pleased, and she could make it profitable, too. 
This, in a measure, accounted for the unlimited admi- 
ration Mrs. Chapman had fqr this great progressive 
clergyman. His great progressive religion was just 
exactly the thing needed in Nyack, He must next 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


52 

attack the Dominie, and drive him out of his pulpit, 
for it would not do to have* men preaching in an un- 
known tongue at this enlightened day. 

In less than two months from the time this teacher of 
great progressive ideas landed at Nyack, he had not 
only got the town by the ears, -but so divided his flock 
that it was now composed almost exclusively of women. 
The men stayed at home and nursed their wrath. And 
it was good for them that they did, for the women had 
things all their own way generally, and Warren Hol- 
brook, ill-favored and formed, was their idol. The pew 
rents ran up, however, and the contributions of a Sun- 
day increased nearly double. Indeed, the Chapmans 
felt that they were now on the road to fortune, and 
Mrs. Chapman's ambition increased accordingly. 

All great enterprises, however, are liable to sudden 
checks, and misfortune too often comes when one least 
expects it. And so it was with the Reverend Warren 
Holbrook, the man of the great progressive ideas. He 
was discovered paying what ladies of strict propriety 
regard as more than ordinary attentions to a fair young 
damsel, the daughter of one of the most active mem- 
bers of the church — a woman who had carried her head 
high, and was so much given to wearing more finery 
than her neighbors that the few friends she had were 
always ready to say ill-natured things of her. The 
young woman was ready enough to embrace matrimony 
at any moment ; hut the attentions she received from 
the reverend gentleman caused great distress among a 
number of other young women of his church. It was 
agreed among them that the reverend gentleman was 
neither fascinating nor handsome, but he had mind, 
and was smart. Smart was the thing a man most 
needed in a New England village. 


THE TOWN MOVED WITH INDIGNATION. 


53 


I have said before that the mother of this damsel 
carried a high head, as well in as out of the church. 
She seemed also to have more rights than ordinary 
females, and would give herself a great deal of unnec- 
essary trouble in asserting them, so much so that many 
of her less strong-handed sisters regarded her with fear. 
The gentleman’s attentions had not progressed far when 
Lt was evident to all attentive observers that there must 
soon he a split in the female division of his church. 
Indeed, the quarrel in the female division of the church 
3f the great progressive ideas was waged with great 
fierceness, and had such a number of nice little scandals 
mixed up in it as to make it quite interesting to people 
of a contemplative turn of mind. 

Every meddlesome old woman in the church must 
put her finger in the reverend gentleman’s love pie, and 
would speak her mind plainly enough, especially if she 
had daughters of her own. To use the poor man’s own 
language, he found himself spiked on all sides ; and all 
for love, a thing which has brought no end of mischief 
on the world. In short, from being an idol he found 
nimself between fires that threatened to consume him, 
so fiercely did they burn. 

The gentleman’s position was indeed becoming peril- 
ous, when an unforeseen circumstance afforded him the 
means of relief. There arrived in Nyack late one Sat- 
urday night, a man of tall, slender figure, dressed in a 
suit of plain black, and having the appearance of a 
young clergyman just from the country. He put up at 
Titus Bright’s inn, gave out that he was from Dogtown, 
Massachusetts, and after partaking of supper, enquired 
of the landlord where he could find the Reverend, so to 
speak, Warren Holbrook. There was something serious 
in the man’s manner, like one who had been grievously 


54 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


wronged. Being told where he could find the object oi 
his search, he paced the room thoughtfully for a few 
minutes, then muttered to himself, “I must see him 
to-night. The sooner settled the better. It will not 
do to wait until morning.” 

Half an hour later, and the two reverend gentlemen 
(the stranger and Holbrook) might have been seen 
seated at a table in a room of Chapman’s house. Their 
conversation had evidently not been of a very pleasant 
nature, for the stranger, rising to take his departure, 
said: “ You have only to do her justice, and show to 
the world that you are an honorable man. She is my 
sister ; and unless you keep your promise, solemnly 
made to her, I will follow you to the end of the earth, 
and make you the scorned of men. Mark this well : it 
is the haunted soul of the hypocrite that burns him 
through life ; that makes him a very torment to him- 
self.” The stranger returned to the inn, where he 
paced the room for nearly an hour, and then retired for 
the night. 

The hells rang on the following morning, and the 
good women of Nyack wended their way to and had 
nearly filled every pew in the church of great progress- 
ive ideas. The choir sung one hymn, and then sung 
another. But no pastor came. There was something 
wrong, evidently. Hope and faith were enjoined by 
a few. Some watched the door, others the pulpit. 
Whispers succeeded wonder, and murmurs took the 
place of curiosity. The church was clearly without a 
pastor ; and what was a church to do under such cir- 
cumstances? At length the whole congregation got 
into a state of profound agitation. What was the 
matter? where was the pastor? would’ nt somebody 
speak? These and similar questions were on every 


THE TOWN MOVED WITH INDIGNATION. 55 

tongue. It was suddenly discovered that the Chapmans 
were also absent. 

An indignant female got up and proposed that some 
one “ go for” the Chapmans, and make them explain 
what it all meant. Another, equally indignant, took a 
more sensible view of things. “If there’s to he no 
service,” said she, “I’m going home to read my Bible 
in quiet.” And she left the church, followed by the 
rest of the congregation. And as nobody explained, of 
course every one had his or her own reason for this sin- 
gular turn in the spiritual affairs of the new church. 
There was no getting over the fact that the new church 
had been brought to a stand still. To be plain about 
the matter, the Reverend Warren Holbrook had put his 
great progressive ideas into practice during the night 
by leaving the town, and also by taking with him the 
young woman to whom he had been paying such marked 
attentions. The Tappan Zee had never been more 
troubled in a storm than was the moral sensibilities of 
Nyack at this news. The very atmosphere was rank 
with scandal. The men laughed and jeered, and the 
women shook their heads and talked of nothing else. 
“ After that,” said the women, “ who can we trust.” 

“Served you right,” replied the men, “for making 
much of such a fellow. Women never take such men 
into their confidence without bringing dirty water to 
their own doors.” It was fortunate for Holbrook that 
he left during the night, for, seeing the temper Nyack 
was in during that day, there would have been some 
stones thrown had he remained. 

The Chapmans took the matter very cool, however, 
counted the profits, and put up the church shutters. 
Such things had happened before, Chapman said. It 
was a weakness that had marked the history of the 


56 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


world ; and it had been a failing with the greatest of 
intellects. They would yet show to the people of Nyack 
what could he done with the right sort of enterprise. 
The honest old Dutchmen were in high glee over the 
turn affairs at the new church had taken. They got 
together in Hanz Toodleburg’s veranda, drank their 
beer, and smoked their pipes, and wished the devil 
might get the new preacher, “ what comes t’down to 
raise t’tevil mit de peoples, and raises t’tevil mit he 
self.” 

The stranger, of whom mention has been made, was 
more seriously troubled. He heard the news of Hol- 
brook’s departure with a sad heart, for he was the kind 
brother of a young woman to whom the delinquent had 
made a solemn vow to marry. But that solemn vow he 
had recently broken in the most heartless manner, and 
left her hopes blighted and her heart sad. He declared, 
however, that he would follow Holbrook if he went to 
the end of the earth, and bring him to justice before 
God and man. 


CHAPTEK IX. 

TITE TAKES HIS DEPARTURE FOR THE SOUTH SEA. 

High above all this hypocrisy, this intrigue, this 
selfishness and dissimulation, there was something more 
pure and good. It was love, pure and simple, binding 
the thoughts and hearts of Mattie Chapman and young 
Tite. That love which forgets everything else in its 
truth and purity, had been gently binding their young 
affections together. And now nothing could separate 
them. 

What sweet joys and touching sorrows are mingled 
with the wonderful history of love. How surely it 
marks its objects. It seeks its most precious captive in 
the strongest and bravest of hearts. Love has dethroned 
kings, built up empires, set great nations at war, and 
made statesmen weep with sorrow. Yea, it has made 
the mightiest to unbend, and brought them bowing 
before its altar. It holds its capricious empire in every 
heart, prompts our ambition, guides and governs our 
actions, makes us heroes or cowards, and carries us 
hoping through the world. 

It was love, then, that was holding its court on the 
occasion I am about to describe. It was one of those 
bright and breezy spring mornings, when Nature 
seems to have decked herself in her brightest colors, 
giving such a charm to the banks of the Hudson. The 
young, fresh leaves were out, and looking so green and 
crisp. The leak and the moss were creeping afresh over 
the rocks ; wild flowers were budding and blossoming, 
and giving their sweet odors to the wind ; birds were 

57 


58 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


singing their touching songs ; brooks rippled and mur- 
mured their mysterious music; and all Nature was 
indeed putting forth her beauties in one grand, sweet, 
soul-stirring harmony. 

How I envy the being who, free from the cares of the 
world, can elevate his soul by holding sweet communion 
with nature, at spring time. Earth has nothing so 
pure as the thoughts inspired by such sweet communion 
with the buds, the blossoms, and the flowers of spring. 

It was one of these soft, breezy mornings in early 
spring, I have said, that Mattie and Tite sat together in 
a little clump of woods, where the branches formed a sort 
of bower overhead, and overlooking the Tappan Zee. 
Every few minutes Tite would get up, advance to a 
point commanding a view of the river above, and gaze 
intently in that direction, as if expecting some object 
of interest. 

“She is not in sight yet, Mattie,” he said, as he 
returned after one of these intervals. “But she will 
be down to-day, I know she will, and then we must 
part. Think of me when I am away, and I will think 
of you. Yes, Mattie, I am only a sailor now, but I 
shall see the world, and that's what I want, because it 
will make me something better. It will be three years 
before vve meet again ; three long, long years. But I 
will think of you and dream of you through all that 
time. And I will be so happy when the day of our 
meeting comes. Be good to my mother and father while 
I am gone. Be good to them for my sake. You will, 
won't you, Mattie?'' 

Mattie's blue eyes filled with tears, the wind tossed 
her golden curls over her fair neck and shoulders, and 
there was something so tender and touching in the pic- 
ture of these young lovers. “I have made you a solemn 


TITE TAKES HIS DEPARTURE. 


59 


promise, Tite,” she replied, in broken accents. “That 
promise shall be kept sacred. I shall think of you, 
and pray for you. Y<&ir parents shall be my parents. 
I will count the days until you return/ ’ She paused 
for a moment and wiped her eyes. “ Neither storm nor 
tempest shall trouble you, Tite, for I will follow you 
with my prayers that God may carry you safe through 
all dangers, and bring you safe back to us. But, 
Tite, take this advice from me. Do all you can 
for yourself. Rise as high as you can ; make all the 
money you can ; and don't forget what we may come to 
be. People who get money, and take care of it, are 
sure to rise in the world. People that don’t get money 
never do. But, God bless you, Tite ; think of me and 
I’ll think of you.” This advice to the young sailor to 
make all the money he could, and given on the eve of 
departure, may seem out of place to some of my romantic 
readers ; but it was, perhaps, the best Mattie could have 
given him. She was a girl of strong affections, and it 
was only natural that she should have something of the 
propensity so strong in both her parents. But beyond 
and above this there was something frank and generous, 
something of real good in her nature. Young as she 
was, she saw in Tite’s courage and ambition traits of 
character that promised well for the future. This made 
her forget that which was so objectionable to her 
mother — that he was only the son of common Dutch 
people. 

Tite had been looking for the object of his anxiety 
several minutes, when, turning toward Mattie, he ex- 
claimed : “ Here she comes ! here she comes !” and they 
kissed and took an affectionate farewell, each hastening 
to their homes. The object he had watched for so 
intently was the ship Pacific, belonging to the Hudson 


60 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


Company’s fleet of whale ships, and hound on a voyage 
to the South Sea, as it was called in those days. There 
was something grand and imposing about this fine old 
ship as she moved majestically down the stream, her star- 
board tacks aboard, the breeze filling her sails so nicely, 
for she had her royals set. Then her new, white canvas 
contrasted so strikingly with the green hills that yet 
shut her hull from view. Who could tell what might 
befall her in the eventful voyage she was bound on ? 

A few minutes more and she braced her yards sharp 
and rounded the point, and stood on her way down the 
Tappan Zee. Every outline of her hull now came clearer 
and clearer. There were her heavy quarter-davits, her 
hoisting gear, and whale-killing gear ; her long, sharp 
boats, lashed so carefully, some to her davits, others 
athwart her quarter-deck frames ; and about all of 
which there was a mysterious interest. These whale 
ships were at that day an object of distrust in the minds 
of the honest Dutchmen along the banks of the Hudson, 
who never saw them go to sea without shaking their 
heads and predicting all sorts of disasters, such as 
would be sure to bring ruin on the men unwise enough 
to risk their money in such enterprises. 

As the ship neared Nyack a group of ten or a dozen 
persons were seen near the landing, with a boat and 
two men to take Tite off. There was Hanz, old and 
grey ; and Angeline, her eyes filled with tears, but her 
face as full of sweetness and tenderness as it was twenty 
years ago. Tite had been the joy and hope of her life. 
And now he was going to leave home and sail to the 
other side of the world, among strange people, and 
would have to brave dangers of the worst kind. 

There, too, was Doctor Critchel, and the good Dominie, 
and Titus Bright, the inn-keeper; the first wearing his 


TITE TAKES HIS DEPARTURE. 


61 


old brown coat, and looking as snuffy as on the stormy 
night when he assisted in bringing Tite into the world. 
They had all come to see Tite off, to say God speed, and 
to give him some little token of their affection to carry 
with him on his voyage after whales. 

And now that time which so tries a mother's heart 
had come. “Good bye, mother, good bye, and may 
God be with you and protect you," said Tite, throwing 
his arms around his mother's neck, and kissing her wet 
cheek. “I will come back safe, and never go to sea 
again." Then he took leave of his father, and each of 
his friends in turn. In another minute the boat in which 
he stood waving his handkerchief was pulling swiftly 
toward the ship. There was not a dry eye in that little 
group as each figure in it stood gazing out upon the calm 
waters, and watching the object so dear to the hearts of 
all in it. And now the boat has reached the ship, men 
are seen in the gangway, a line was thrown to the men 
in the boat, the ship luffed a little, and in another mo- 
ment Tite mounted the ladder and was on deck. The 
first officer welcomed him, for there was something in 
his appearance that indicated respectability and true 
character ; and his ship-mates gathered about him, each 
giving him a warm shake of the hand and a friendly 
word. Then the good ship moved gallantly down the 
stream, and Tite appeared on the forecastle, and waved 
adieus until she disappeared among the green hills of 
the Palisades. 

There was a heart that fluttered, and a hand that 
waved signals, from a point on the shore recognized by 
Tite, and responded to, but not seen by the little sor- 
rowing group waiting the return of the boat. It was 
Mattie's heart that fluttered, and it was her hand that 
waved the last adieu as the ship passed out of sight. 


62 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


There she stood, a touching picture of truth and love, 
shedding her tears and waving a last farewell to tlif 
object of her heart, and whom she might never see 
again. 

Such are the transmutations of commerce that if 
would be a curious sight at this day to see a whale-ship, 
under full sail, proceeding up or down the Hudson river. 
It was no uncommon sight then. The enterprising 
people of Hudson shared the whale-fishery business 
with New Bedford and Nantucket ; their fleet of ships 
were fitted out in the very best manner, and some of 
the most famous whaling captains sailed from that port. 


CHAPTER X. 


MR. AND MRS. CHAPMAN DISAGREE FOR THE FIRST TIME. 

A bright light burned in Chapman's parlor that 
night, and the ponderous Mrs. Chapman sat nursing 
her dignity in a great new rocking-chair. Her little 
pale-faced husband, with keen eyes, and his hair some- 
what longer than usual, sat beside the lamp on the 
round table pouring over a book. There was an air of 
improvement about the parlor, an evidence, indeed, that 
the Chapmans had renounced their Dogtown habits, 
and were bent on getting up in the world. New car- 
pets, new mirrors, new furniture, and window-curtains 
such as had not been seen in Nyack before, had been 
got from New York. You must make your style of 
living, Mrs. Chapman said, keep pace with the progress 
of the family. And it would not do to let those new, 
rich, and stylish people who were coming up from New 
York get ahead of you in the way of elegance. 

Mrs. Chapman no longer condescended to prepare the 
sausage meat and pumpkin pies ; in a word, to do the 
work of her own kitchen. She could afford, she said,, 
to keep two “ helps," a cook and a chambermaid, to 
take it easy and put on the lady, and to give evening 
parties that quite outdid in the way of nice little sup- 
pers anything their neighbors could give. There was, 
however, a number of people in Nyack who shook their 
heads at the pretensions of the Chapmans ; said they 
were putting on too many airs, and made no response 
to Mrs. Chapman's invitations. Others, when a little 
scandal was necessary to keep up the interest of an 

63 


64 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


evening, would insinuate that they had e< originally” 
been very common and vulgar people. But now, like 
most New England people of that class, they were not 
only trying to force their opinions down other and 
honester people’s throats, but had a way of meddling 
with business that did’nt concern them, and making 
themselves disagreeable generally. When Holbrook 
disappeared in disgrace, there were persons malicious 
enough to say that the Chapmans had better mend 
their own morals before they went to patching other 
people’s up. 

Mrs. Chapman could dress of an evening in silk, 
wear kid gloves that came from France, and had plenty 
of real French lace on her caps. Few persons in Nyack 
at that day could do such things and pass for honest 
people. 

“ My dear,” said Mrs. Chapman, addressing herself 
to her small, hut intellectually great, Mr. Chapman ; 
“ my dear.” She paused for a moment, as her face 
assumed an air of seriousness. “ We must turn our 
hacks entirely on Dogtown. Dogtown won’t do to 
elevate the family on. We never can rise in the world 
with Dogtown on our shoulders. And if we would 
live down that scandal brought on us by Holbrook, (an 
indiscretion, I think you called it,) we must keep our 
heads up.” She paused, shook her head in pity, and 
raised her fat, waxy hands. “ I can’t sleep of nights, 
thinking of it. Lays a body’s feelings out terribly. 
But he was so wonderfully clever.” Her face bright- 
ened up as she said this. “ Wonderfully clever,” she 
interpolated. “ It was his mental greatness I always 
subsided to and admired. Clever people have their 
weaknesses as well as people what are not as clever. I 
sometimes thought you had yours, my dear ” 


MR. AND MRS. CHAPMAN DISAGREE. 


65 


“My dear!’" interrupted Chapman, with an air of 
surprise, “what do you mean? Hav'nt I been a fin- 
ished husband, and a loving father ?” 

“ You are just as good, my dear, as husbands can be 
made/' Mrs. Chapman said this condescendingly, and 
with an air of admiration truly grand. “But then, 
you know/’ she said, more mildly, “there was that 
handsome widow you used to be so polite to, my dear. 
You know I detected her waving a handkerchief once. 
Then you said it was one you left at the house ; and so 
I never thought of it again.” 

“ I never let the past trouble me, my dear, never. A 
man of forethought, of progressive ideas, looks always 
ahead, and by his acts proves that he is up square with 
the spirit of the age. I have a new conception. Yes, 
my dear, a new conception. Nothing figurative about 
it, my dear. I have a new and grand conception, which 
I have been evolving in my mind for some time, and 
now I am getting it into a scheme which I am sure will 
be profitable.” 

“ My dear husband,” said Mrs. Chapman, in a strain 
of intense excitement, “ do let us know what it is.” 

“Of great importance to us both,” he replied, with 
great seriousness, as he brushed his long black hair 
back over his parchment-like forehead. 

“Til be bound it refers to what took place to-day be- 
tween our Mattie and that young sailor. I saw it all ; 
and you saw it all, too, my dear, and you never said a 
word. We never can agree on that matter, my dear, 
never. On everything else we can. You can't mistake 
what two young people mean when they go to waving 
handkerchiefs, and picking wild flowers in the woods. 
This little love matter must be stopped before it gets 
into a big one. Yes, it must, my dear. So fine a young 

5 


66 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


woman as our daughter condescending to marry a sailor! 
As I said before, my dear, you know I have had expe- 
rience in these matters ” 

“ In other matters, you know, Mrs. Chapman, I have 
always yielded to you ” 

“And I have always yielded to you,” resumed the 
anxious woman, “ and never considered it a condescen- 
sion. But in this I must have my own way.” And 
Mrs. Chapman got up and walked to a window over- 
looking the Tappan Zee. The night was bright and 
starlight, and shadows were flitting and dancing over 
the smooth waters. The picture of the ship, with Tite 
waving Mattie an adieu from the forecastle, haunted her 
mind. 

“If that ship goes to the bottom of the sea, not a 
tear shall I shed — not a tear!” resumed the speaker, in 
an agitated tone. “And I have as tender a heart as 
anybody. But we must elevate the family. That's 
laudable, you know. Nice people are very particular 
about these things. And you know how much there is 
in names. Think of elevating the family by taking a 
man by the name of Toodlebug into it ! Think of our 
going to live in New York with such a name. Every- 
body would say Toodlebug! Toodlebug! and nobody 
would come to our daughter's parties.” The good 
woman ran on in this way for several minutes, compel- 
ling her dear Chapman to keep the peace. At length 
she settled back into her rocking-chair, and there was 
a pause. 

“ My dear,” said Chapman, meekly, “ I have always 
held that a man could commit no greater folly than 
that of quarrelling with a woman on a question of family 
pride. In such a contest the man is sure to get the 
worst of it. I say this understanding^, my dear.” 


ME. AND MRS. CHAPMAN DISAGREE. f>7 

And Chapman shut up his book, and looked up into 
his wife's face, as if to watch the changes of her coun- 
tenance. 

“ We may agree on that matter yet, my dear. A 
man is never so low by birth (I mean in this country, 
at least,) but that he may rise to the highest office of 
honor and trust—” 

“ Not with such a name as Toodlebug — never !” Mrs. 
Chapman interrupted, curtly. 

“ That's a mistake, my dear. Names never distin- 
guished people. A man’s merit and money are the 
things that do it. This is a free country. A woman 
may have as many quarrels as she pleases, and have 
her own way in things generally. Nothing personal, 
my dear. 

“ But to go back to what I was pondering over when 
you interrupted me. A family never gets through the 
world easy without a solid basis ; and I was thinking 
how to give a solid basis to our little family. Marry- 
ing is all well enough in its way ; but the woman who 
marries a man without a solid basis, either in money or 
character, marries into misery. That’s my philoso- 
phy ” 

“ Exactly!” interrupted Mrs. Chapman, with a stately 
nod of the head, and rubbing her fat hands. “ Now 
you talk as I like to hear you. There’s no getting up 
in the world without money.” 

“ I intended to make that point in my logic, and was 
coming to it, my dear. You see, we have got the build- 
ing and everything in it, all our own. And we have 
got two or three thousand dollars, all put away for a 
wet day. Property all honorably made. Heaven 
knows I would not have a dollar that was not. That, 
my dear, is a good beginning for a good basis. We 


68 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


must keep adding to it; keep the tide flowing in the 
channel of success. I was thinking, my dear, of invent- 
ing a new religion/' 

“ My dear I" exclaimed Mrs. Chapman, with an air 
of astonishment, “what an inventive head you have 
got. But you have said so often that there was too 
much religion in the world, and not enough of true 
goodness." 

“Of the old kind, I meant, my dear resumed the 
little man. “ What I mean is to invent a religion that 
is new and novel, has something broad and attractive 
in it, and that people of a curious turn of mind would 
pay for enjoying. That's the kind of religion that pays, 
you see. And if we could put the church on its feet 
again with something of that kind. It's the propensity 
people have to go galloping after new things in religion 
that we must study and turn to our advantage if we 
would be prosperous." The little man fretted his fin- 
gers nervously through his unkept hair, and his face 
assumed an air of great seriousness. 

“How, my dear," enquired Mrs. Chapman, “could 
you put the church on its feet with such a load of 
scandal on its hack ? Could’nt you invent something 
else that would be novel and profitable?" 

“There’s where my new conception was coming in. 
That’s the point I was considering when you interrupted 
me with Mattie's love affair," Chapman replied, look- 
ing more serious than ever. 

“ It struck me that we might do something profitable 
by getting up a company for the discovery of Kidd's 
treasure. ‘ The Great Kidd Discovery Company' would 
be a good name, my dear. You must always give a 
company a good name. Then you must manage it 
with tact and prudence. A prodigious enterprise, my 


MR. AND MRS. CHAPMAN DISAGREE. 


69 


dear. These simple-minded and honest Dutch people 
would fall into it like a flock of sheep. They honestly 
believe Kidd was a bold pirate, who amassed a great 
fortune by plundering towns on the Spanish Main. 
That, having more gold and silver than he could invest 
to advantage, he buried it on the bank of the river, a 
few leagues above this place, where he entered into an 
agreement with the devil to stand guard over it until he 
returned. They believe, also, that Hanz Toodlehurg, 
whose father knew Kidd well, and perhaps had some- 
thing to do with his adventures, is the only man now 
living who possesses the secret of where that treasure 
is buried. 


CHAPTER XI. 

MRS. CHAPMAN CULTIVATES NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 

It was spring-time of the year 1824. A new era in 
the history of the nation's wealth and progress seemed 
to have fairly begun. Strong and vigorous intellects 
ruled in the councils of the nation and inspired confi- 
dence in the people. Science was breathing new life 
into our enterprise, and leading us rapidly into new 
fields and richer prospects. It was also brushing away 
the prejudices that had narrowed our thoughts and con- 
fined our action to things of a past age. Steam was an 
adjustable power now, a reality ; still there were sensi- 
ble men who shook their heads in doubt ; and the men 
who declared it would soon revolutionize the commerce 
of the world were set down as not safe to do business 
with. 

Steamboats of improved model and of increased size 
seemed to spring up every day, and might he seen pass- 
ing up and down the Hudson night and morning. Now 
a company of reckless New Yorkers proposed to build a 
steamboat two hundred feet long, and with an engine 
of one hundred and fifty horse power, to navigate the 
Hudson to Albany at the rate of thirteen miles an hour. 
This great experiment, regarded so hazardous at that 
time, sent the honest and peace-loving Dutchmen along 
the banks of the river into such a state of alarm that 
they called meetings, and in the most solemn manner 
declared that no man's life would be safe while sailing 
at such a dangerous rate of speed. And they further 
declared that all these new-fashioned methods of putting 
an end to the lives of honest people must be stopped. 


MRS. CHAPMAN CULTIVATES NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 71 

In fine, they predicted nothing hut distress and ruin on 
all who had anything to do with them. 

It was at one of these meetings, held in Nyack about 
this time, and presided over by the school-master, that 
a number of these honest and peace-loving old settlers 
resolved, after much grave deliberation, that a man who 
paid his debts and was contented with what he had was 
the only true Christian. And it was further resolved, 
that the world was getting to be very wicked and very 
full of foolish people, who were in such a hurry to get 
to the devil before their time that they had devised 
these steamboats to carry them. And seeing that it 
was neither wisdom nor prudence for honest people to 
travel on such craft, they would also not send their 
vegetables to market on them. 

This resolution was kept good for a number of years, 
the honest people who made it firmly believing that all 
good and prudent persons would follow their example, 
and in that way drive the steamboats from the river. 
Alarming as these things were, there were others which 
fairly frightened these honest people out of all their 
courage. The gossips had gathered in force at Titus 
Bright’s inn one night, to enjoy a pipe and a mug of 
his new ale. There was the school-master, and Doctor 
Chritchel, and Hanz Toodleburg, and other choice 
spirits, who knew all about the affairs of the nation. 
When they had discussed all manner of subjects, Titus 
drew from his pocket a newspaper and read, to the 
astonishment and evident alarm of his guests, that a 
man in England had invented a machine to do away 
with horses. The doctor set down his ale and adjusted 
his spectacles, and gazed at the speaker with an air of 
surprise and astonishment, while Hanz and the school- 
master suddenly ceased smoking. 


72 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


“ Now don't get alarmed, my friends/' said Titus, 
watching with evident delight the increasing alarm of 
his guests. “ It is all here, and true. He has invented 
a steam-horse, with an iron stomach and wheels ; and 
the animal can, with good management, be made to 
run over a road at the rate of twenty miles an hour. 
Yes," added Titus, with a look of great seriousness, 
“ people are already risking their lives by riding in this 
way." 

The doctor heaved a sigh, and, half raising his pipe, 
gave it as his opinion that a man who would invent 
such dangerous machines must he in league with the 
devil. This profound opinion was endorsed by both 
Hanz and the school-master. The latter, in short, sug- 
gested that such men were generally vagabonds, whom 
it were well to throw into the Tappan Zee, with stones 
around their necks. 

“If the world was going to the devil in this way, 
what was the use of living in it," inquired the school- 
master, finishing his ale, and passing his mug for a 
fresh draught. 

“Sure enough, sure enough!" a number of voices 
ejaculated simultaneously. 

“Truly, the dragons are to he let loose upon us," 
resumed Bright, passing the schoolmaster his mug of 
ale. “An' here's now in New York, that’s got to he 
so wicked honest folks can’t live in it, a lot o' crazy 
men talking about building one of these here steam- 
boats big enough to cross the Atlantic." 

“ Der won’t be much heerd of de mans nir de vomans 
vat goes in um," interrupted Hanz. 

“Peoples is not sho crazy as t'too any un de sort. 
*Tis all hombug /' joined the.doctor. 

“ So I say, doctor !" interposed the school-master. 


MRS. CHAPMAN CULTIVATES NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 73 


“ Here it is, gentlemen,” resumed Bright ; “all down 
in the newspaper. No getting over that.” Thus was 
this important subject discussed until a late hour, the 
gossips going to their homes with serious faces and 
heavy hearts. 

It is a very well established fact that the question of 
building steamships large enough and strong enough to 
cross the ocean was discussed by a number of New York 
merchants who were ready to embark capital in the 
project, several years before the keels of the Royal Wil- 
liam, the Savannah, the Sirius, or the Great Western 
were laid. But we must leave this subject for the 
present, and return to our friends, the Chapmans. 

These people professed to he plain and practical, 
brought up according to the creed of New England. 
They also affected to despise the small vanities of the 
world. The effect of prosperity, however, on their 
natures was singularly instructive, since it entirely 
changed their manners. No sooner did fortune favor 
them than Mrs. Chapman began to display an ambition 
for vulgar show, such as well-bred people never indulge 
in. She never failed to remind her friends that she was 
brought up in Boston, where everything was very re- 
fined. She regarded it as a compliment to herself that 
she had an intellectual husband. He had a big head, 
if he was small, and could carry any number of books in 
it. That was what Boston people liked. Her thoughts 
seemed continually navigating between religion and the 
fashions. She had no deep affection or love for any one, 
not even for her daughter Mattie, whom she viewed in 
the light of a rather valuable ornament, in the disposal 
of which she must make the best bargain she could, not 
so much for the girl's sake as her own. She could toss 
her head as disdainfully as any of your fine dames ; and 


74 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


she could discourse as glibly about genteel society as a 
successful milliner just set up for a lady. She bad plain 
Mrs. Jones for a neighbor, and would drop that honest 
woman a nod now and then, out of mere politeness. 
But she never condescended to associate on terms of 
equality with the Jones family. Mrs. Jones's husband 
was a common, unintellectual sort of person, who 
retailed groceries for a living. 

A singular and mysterious change bad now taken 
place. Chapman no longer got up quarrels with bis 
neighbors. Indeed, be bad a good word to say when- 
ever be met Titus Bright. He could shake bands with 
Doctor Critcbel, and agree with the Dominie on matters 
of religion. In fine, if be was everybody’s enemy be- 
fore, be was now everybody’s friend. He admired the 
Dutch for their honesty and true-heartedness. This 
singular change gave the gossips of the town something 
to talk about for a week. The Chapmans and the Too- 
dleburgs were now the very best of friends. Chapman 
could be seen of an evening sitting in Hanz’s little ivy- 
covered porch, enjoying a pot of ale. And Hanz had 
been seen smoking his pipe in Chapman’s garden. All 
this meant something, the gossips said, and something 
of great importance. Where two such men got their 
heads together, and pipes and ale were called in, there 
was sure to be something deep going on. Hanz Too- 
dleburg, they said, never smoked his pipe with a man 
like Chapman but that there was something in the 
wind. Then Mrs. Chapman and her gushing, blue-eyed 
daughter had condescended to visit at Toodleburg’s, 
and could make themselves quite agreeable at Ange- 
line s tea-table. And then Angeline, good, kind Ange- 
line, with her face still bright with gentleness and love, 
was always so happy when Mattie called. Then there 


MRS. CHAPMAN CULTIVATES NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 75 

was something so simple, so frank and straightforward 
in Mattie’s nature. Angeline could not help loving her. 
And the affection she cherished for Tite, who was the 
idol of her thoughts, strengthened the ties of their 
love. 

“We have not forgot you, you see,’ ’ said Mrs. Chap- 
man, as she bowed herself into Toodleburg’s little house 
one evening. ‘ c We expected company at home to-night, 
but says I to my dear husband, £ you know, my dear 
husband/ (here Mrs. Chapman bowed to her dear hus- 
band, who had followed her,) ‘ we have been promising 
so long to visit Mr. and Mrs. Toodleburg.’ ” 

Angeline bowed and invited her visitors to be seated, 
while Hanz gave Chapman a hearty shake of the hand, 
and an assurance that no man was more welcome under 
his roof. “ Always glad to see mine friends/’ said Hanz. 
“ You shall take seats, and be shust so much at home as 
you is in your own house.” And he drew one big chair 
up for Chapman, and another for Mrs. Chapman. 
“ Peoples always makes themselves at home in mine 
house.” 

“ You must excuse our humble little place,” Ange- 
line said ; “we are plain, every-day people.” And she 
made Mrs. Chapman a low courtesy, as that stout, 
bustling woman, apparently overcome with the heat, 
settled her solid circumference into a chair. 

“ Dear a me,” rejoined Mrs. Chapman, “ what happy 
people you ought to be. Everything so comfortable 
round you, you know, and all your own. What a 
blessing to have things all your own.” Here Mrs. 
Chapman raised her bonnet carefully and used it as a 
fan. 

“ Yes, we are quite unpretending people,” Angeline 
repeated, “ What we have got is our own. We are 


76 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


getting old now, and if we die owing nobody a shilling 
we shall die in peace/ ' And her sweet face lighted up 
with a smile, the true reflex of that goodness her heart 
was so full of. 

“It's so warm — I’m about melted/' rejoined Mrs. 
Chapman, not appearing to notice what Angeline had 
said. “And this is my new bonnet, you see. Bonnets 
cost so much money now. People are getting so fash- 
ionable, and to be anybody you must keep up appear- 
ances." She held her bonnet up admiringly. “And 
my dear, good husband there — he's such a good hus- 
band — says I'm a very expensive wife. Always buys 
me what I want, though.’' Here she raised her waxy, 
fat hand, and dropped a bow of approval to the little 
husband, who was quietly surveying the scene from 
Hanz’s big chair. “My husband is so intellectual, 
and does so much for other people. He's always doing 
for other people. But he’s a treasure to me, for all 
that ' ’ 

“ My dear, my dear," interrupted Chapman ; “what 
a kind way you have of paying compliments. Mrs. 
Toodleburg will not understand you, my dear. What 
more than any one else have I done for other people?" 

“ You have been a perfect Christian, my dear, so you 
have," resumed Mrs. Chapman, giving her head a toss 
and pressing the forefinger of her right hand on the 
arm of the chair. “Why, Mrs. Toodlebug — pardon 
me ; I never did pronounce names correct. ’ ' She turned 
condescendingly to Angeline. “You must know that 
my dear husband created a whole town once. Then he 
built a great and flourishing church, founded o'n ad- 
vanced moral ideas. And he intended to have sold it 
for the good of others, and would have sold it, but for 
an unforeseen circumstance/ 


MRS. CHAPMAN CULTIVATES NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 77 

“A very unforeseen circumstance, my dear/’ rejoined 
Chapman, shaking his head admonishingly. “ You 
see, I have got one of the very best wives in the world. 
She has a philosophy of her own, and we agree in 
everything.” 

“ Shust like me and mine vife,” said Hanz. “We 
agrees in everything. Lived dese forty nor more years 
togeder, mitout a quarrel/’ Hanz had been sitting 
where a pale shadow of the dim light played over 
his broad, kindly face, and, with his long, white hair 
curling down his neck, gave a clearer outline to the 
picture. 

“ Never had even a little quarrel?” resumed Mrs. 
Chapman, inquiringly. “ 1 have heard married people 
say it was so nice to have a little quarrel now and then. 
But my dear husband is such a good husband, Mrs. 
Toodleburg. Just like yours.” Here she turned 
toward and dropped Angeline a bow. “I never want 
to live to see the day when I shall have to marry a 
second husband.” Here she turned and dropped a bow 
to her dear Chapman. “ I should be always praising 
you, my dear. And unless my dear second husband 
was a saint there would be trouble in the house, you 
know. My dear, let us drop this subject. It is not 
pleasant to look to far into the future.” Here she 
turned to Angeline, who had proceeded to get some 
strawberries and cream for her guests. 

“ You are so nice and comforta-ble here,” she re- 
sumed ; “it takes one back to the good old times, when 
everything was true and simple.” Mrs. Chapman gave 
quicker motion to her tongue. “ You have your loom, 
and your spinning-wheel, and homespun made by your 
own hands. How delightful.” 


78 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


“ My dear, my dear,” interrupted Chapman ; a what 
a homily on the beauties of economy you are reading 
our friends ’ ’ 

“ Don’t interrupt me, my dear,” resumed Mrs. Chap- 
man, and she again turned to Angeline. u Do you 
know, Mrs. Toodlebug, that I have always felt that we 
ought to be the best of friends?” 

“ You are very kind,” said Angeline, u very kind. 
We are very plain people.” 

“ That’s why I like you all the better,” Mrs. Chap- 
man resumed, with an air of condescension. u My 
husband and your husband must also he the best of 
friends. They can make a fortune by it, you know. 
You see, my husband proposes to make your husband’s 
fortune. He is the greatest man to make other people’s 
fortunes. Yes, he is. My husband’s head is full of 
great progressive ideas. And he has made the fortunes 
of so many men.” Here Mrs. Chapman lowered her 
voice to a whisper, and drew her chair a little nearer to 
Angeline. u There is another little matter that should 
make us firm friends. I would not mention it, you 
know; hut I feel that it is no secret.” Here she 
dropped one of her most significant bows. “I have 
taken such a liking to your son. Such a promising 
young man, he is. That voyage will make a man of 
him ; who knows hut he may come home with a large 
fortune. I have known stranger things than that. I 
have been encouraging a little love affair between him 
and my daughter Mattie. You have seen my Mattie? 
She is clever, wonderfully smart, handsome, too ; and 
if she gets the right kind of a husband, will shine in 
society.” 

“ My poor hoy, my poor hoy !” exclaimed Angeline, 
her eyes filling with tears at the mention of his name, 


IRS. CHAPMAN CULTIVATES NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 79 

“ How, how, how I should like to see him to-night. 
There is where he used to sit, (here her voice yielded to 
her emotions,) and here is the chair we always kept for 
him. Perhaps we shall never see him again. He was 
so good and so kind to us. I hope God will he good to 
him, and will watch over him, and carry him safe 
through dangers, and bring him hack to us. Oh, I 
know God will be good to him. We are both old now, 
and have nothing to live for but him.” Again she gave 
way to her grief, and as the tears flowed buried her face 
in her hands. 

“ My dear, good friend,” rejoined Mrs. Chapman, 
rising from her chair, and placing her hand consolingly 
on Angeline’s shoulder ; “ there is nothing in the world 
to weep for. Nothing in the world. I would be proud 
of a son who had courage and ambition enough to go 
on one of these voyages. It is proof, my good woman, 
that he has something in him. And if he should bring 
home a fortune, you know. Oh, he’d have so many 
friends. Don’t weep, my good woman, don’t weep. 
He’ll be such a joy to you when he comes home. And 
I will encourage Mattie to think of nobody else.” 


CHAPTER XIL 


A STRANGE GENTLEMAN. 

Angeline had just recovered from her grief, and was 
setting strawberries and cream before her visitors, when 
a loud knock was heard at the door, which Hanz pro- 
ceeded to open ; when a tall, well-dressed man, with 
dark, well kept hair, piercing black eyes, features of 
great regularity, and having the manners of a gentle- 
man, entered and introduced himself as Mr. Luke Top- 
man, just from New York. “I am a stranger to you 
all here/' he said, in a deep, clear voice, “and I owe 
you an apology for calling at this seemingly late hour. 
I said I was a stranger,” he repeated, “ hut the business 
I am on may make us acquaintances.” The stranger 
stood for a moment, with his eyes fixed on Chapman. 
Still no recognition passed, and their manner was that 
of strangers who had never met before. 

The figures here grouped together were of the most 
opposite kind, and presented a picture at once striking 
and effective. A table stood in the centre of the little 
room, and on it burned a candle, casting a pale and 
shadowy light over and giving clearer outline to each 
figure. There was the old loom, with its harnesses, its 
reed, and its shuttles ; the flax-wheel and the distaff, 
forming a quaint setting, but representing a past age 
and the primitive habits of the people who used them. 

There was Hanz and Angeline on one side. Time 
was writing its record in deep lines on their faces, and 
whitening their gray hairs. Frank, simple-minded, 
honest, and contented, they had enough to carry them 


A STRANGE GENTLEMAN. 


81 


through life comfortably ; and why should they, Hanz 
said, trouble themselves about anything more ? They 
represented an age and a people perfectly happy with 
what it had pleased God to give them. On the other 
side there was Chapman and Mrs. Chapman, exact 
types of the people they represented. Ambitious of 
making a show in the world, grasping, restless, selfish, 
intriguing, seeking always for means to advance them- 
selves, studying the future for their own advancement, 
and ready to use even religion as an assistant to gain- 
ing their objects. Such was the contrast presented in 
the picture before us. 

Again apologizing for calling at what seemed a late 
hour, the stranger proceeded. “I am in great haste, 
madam. I came all the way from New York to-day. 
Crossed the ferry only an hour ago, and am somewhat 
fatigued. My business is of great importance, and 
with Mr. Toodleburg. I was directed here, and am 
glad to find him so comfortably situated.” 

“Very well, very well/' rejoined Hanz, his face 
lighted up with a smile, and his white hair flowing ; 
“ dat’s me, mine friend. You be’s welcome to my little 
home. Yees, mine friend, you shall be so welcome as I 
can make you. ’ ’ Hanz shook him heartily by the hand, 
and invited him to sit down. “ You he's had no shup- 
per, eh?” he resumed. “ Der’s no man what comes 
nor goes hungry to my house.” 

The stranger bowed and said, “ Thank you — you are 
very kind ; but I supped on the other side of the sea, 
and have no need for any more.” 

“Mine gracious!” exclaimed Hanz. “You comes 
all de way from New York to she me. You eats anoder 
ehupper, shure,” 

6 


82 


THE VON ToODLEBURGS. 


The stranger persisted that he would eat no more 
that night. The appearance of the man at so late an 
hour excited serious apprehensions in the mind of Ange- 
line lest he should bring news of some disaster to the 
good ship Pacific. 

Then turning to Mrs. Chapman, he said, “ I hope, 
madam, I have not intruded on your privacy here to- 
night ?” 

That lady, having dropped him one of her best bows, 
assured him there was nothing private so far as she was 
concerned. “We are friends and neighbors of these 
good people/’ she replied with a forced smile and an air 
of condescension. “We like to be neighborly, and 
just dropped in to make a friendly call. That’s all, 
sir.” 

“I am very glad to meet Mr. Toodleburg. Very 
glad to find him such an excellent person,” the stranger 
repeated, turning to Hanz, and again taking him by 
the hand. “ Topman, I said my name was; Luke 
Topman, senior partner of the enterprising house of Top- 
man and Gusher, doing a large miscellaneous business 
in Pearl, near Wall street. You are, doubtless, well 
acquainted with the reputation of the firm.” Here 
Mr. Topman compressed his lips, brushed his fingers 
through his hair, and addressed himself to Chapman, 
who up to this time had maintained an air of indiffer- 
ence to what was going on. 

“ Perfectly well,” replied Chapman, with an air of 
surprise. “ Highly respectable and equally responsible 
house, that. Why, sir, it is somewhat curious that we 
should meet here. A relative of mine did business with 
that house a long time. Highly satisfactory — highly.” 

“We endeavor to make everything satisfactory with 
our customers,” resumed Mr. Topman. “Happy to 


A STRANGE GENTLEMAN. 


83 


have met a gentleman so familiar with the reputation 
of our house. Pray, may I enquire to the name?" 

“ Chapman — Bigelow Chapman. My wife, Mr. Top- 
man ; my enlarged and better half. Mr. Topman, my 
dear, of the firm of Topman and Gusher. Doing a 
large miscellaneous business, and highly respectable/ ’ 

“ What a strange meeting this is. You used to know 
each other ? How curious !” interposed Mrs. Chapman, 
rising from her seat and dropping Mr. Topman one of 
her most stately bows. 

“ By reputation. Perhaps I should have said general 
reputation, my dear/’ returned Chapman. During all 
this time Ilanz was kept in ignorance of the object of 
the stranger’s visit. Yet the whole scene was such as 
could not fail to excite his curiosity to the very highest 
pitch. 

“And now/’ said the stranger, “as the night is 
w T arm, and ladies never care to hear anything about 
business, I propose, Mr. Toodleburg, that we retire to 
the porch. You can enjoy your pipe, there ; and, if 
you will permit me, I will enjoy a cigar. Our friend, 
here — he will permit me to call him so — will join us.” 

The three now proceeded to the porch, where, when 
they had become seated, the stranger discovered the 
object of his visit. “ I have been informed on good 
authority,” said Mr. Topman, “that you possess the 
secret of where Kidd’s treasure is buried ” 

“ Vel, vel, vel !” exclaimed Hanz, raising his hands 
in astonishment ; “if dat ish’nt so pig a lie as ever vas 
told. No, mine friend, I knows nothin’ apout dis Mr. 
Kidd, nor his money. Dis one big lie de peoples pout 
here gits up, as has nothin’ petter to do.” 

“ It’s somewhat singular,” said Chapman, fixing his 
keen black eyes on the stranger, “it was that that 


84 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


brought me here to-night. Mr. Toodleburg may be 
innocent of all knowledge of Mr. Kidd, as he says. 
But the people sincerely believe that he does, and that 
he possesses the secret of where his treasure is buried. 
The belief is just as good as the reality, and may be 
made equally profitable/' 

“ Exactly," interposed Mr. Topman, “exactly! Just 
what I was going to suggest." Here Mr. Topman put 
his thumbs in the arms of his waistcoat, and drummed 
on the front with his fingers. “ If these honest people 
believe Mr. Toodleburg knows where the money is 
buried, why, sii, there’s your solid basis for a grand 
joint stock company, dividends twenty per cent., paya- 
ble quarterly. That’s what takes. God bless me, Mr. 
Toodleburg, here’s a fortune in your fingers. Capable 
heads, sir, and capable hands. There’s all, sir, that is 
required to give the thing popularity and insure its 
success.’’ Mr. Topman paused for a moment, threw 
himself back in his chair, and cast a patronizing glance 
at Hanz. “Progressive idea, sir. Grand Kidd Dis- 
covery Company. Capital one hundred thousand dol- 
lars, all paid in. The man fortunate enough to get 
twenty shares is sure to make a fortune.’’ 

“ Den if he pe so grand, why you don’t make all de 
fortune, and keep him yourshelf?’’ said Hanz, rubbing 
his head and dropping his pipe. 

“ Having the secret,’’ resumed Mr. Topman, blandly, 
of course you are indispensable to the success of the 
enterprise. Think of it, sleep over it, and I am sure, 
sir, you will wake up in the morning resolved to place 
yourself in the hands of Topman and Gusher.’’ Mr. 
Topman made another pause, and threw his hands over 
his head. “No matter whether you have the secret or 


A STRANGE GENTLEMAN. 85 

not. Stick to it that you have ; and refer your men to 
Topman and Gusher/’ 

Again Hanz shook his head, and smoked his pipe 
thoughtfully. The whole thing was new and strange 
to him. Never in his life before had anything taken 
him by such surprise. He had enough to carry him 
through the world comfortably, and something to give 
his poor neighbors when they stood in need. Why 
should he trouble his head about Mr. Kidd. He did 
not know where a dollar of his money was buried. 

“ Mine friends,” said Hanz, “ I likes you poth. And 
I thanks you, and ish much opliged to you for dis offer 
to makes my fortune. But, what I do mit sho much 
moneys, eh? My neighbors all say c Hanz Toodleburg 
steals him/ Maybe I gits prout mit him. Den every- 
pody says Hanz Toodleburg gits apove his pisness. Mit 
a fortune perhaps t’tivel gits into mine head. Der ish 
nopody now put me und mine Angeliue ” 

“There’s your son, Mr. Toodleburg,” interposed 
Chapman, who until now had remained almost passive. 
“ You ought to regard him above everything else, you 
ought. I feel a deep interest in that young man, you 
know. If you could have a fortune for him when he 
comes home — well, that would be the making of him.” 

“ Shure enough, dere ish mine poor poy, Tite. He 
ish such a goot poy. It most preaks his muder’s heart 
to have him go dis long voyages,” said Hanz, taking 
the pipe from his lips, as his eyes filled with tears. “If 
1 only could have a fortune und de little farm for mine 
poor Tite when he gits home.” 

“Give us your hand, sir,” said Mr. Topman. “You 
talk now like a man, and a father. I’m a father, sir, 
and know how to feel for you. Had a son at sea four 
years. Gave him a fortune when he came home. A 


8G 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


most enterprising and higlily respected merchant now. 
Has ships at sea, rides in his carriage, and a balance in 
his bank/’ The thought of providing a future for Tite 
was more than Hanz could resist, and his unsuspecting 
nature yielded to the temptation. 

“And now,” said Mr. Topman, rising from his chair, 
“ if Mr. Toodleburg will sign these papers — they merely 
set forth that he possesses and will confide to the house 
of Topman and Gusher, their heirs or assigns, the 
secret of where Kidd’s treasure is buried, and that he 
shall have a tenth interest in all the profits. A sure 
gain and no risk, you know.” 

The three gentlemen now returned to the little room. 
Topman handed Chapman the paper, and requested that 
he would read it, which that gentleman affected to do. 

“Perfectly straightforward and correct,” said Chap- 
man ; “perfectly! I am sure you are very kind to 
these people, and I wish the great Kidd Discovery Com- 
pany every success.” 

Angeline brought the little old ink-bottle, and Hanz, 
with feelings of hesitation, it must be confessed, signed 
the papers, when the visitors retired for the night. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


CAPTAIN BOTTOM, THE WHALE-KILLER. 

On the morning of the 24th of June, the good ship 
Pacific was sailing gallantly down the coast of Brazil, 
all her canvass spread to a light breeze, her port tacks 
aboard, and heading for Bahia. 

The air was hot with the breath of tropic winds, and 
the horizon to the west and south was festooned with 
fierce red clouds. The sun was just setting, and spread- 
ing the broad ocean with a crimson light, giving a weird 
and curious outline to every feature of the ship. There 
was something grand, even enchanting and sublime, in 
the picture here spread out, presenting as it did the 
the highest example of God's goodness and reality. 

The scene changed suddenly, as the sun disappeared. 
The fierce, red clouds melted into softness and tender- 
ness. A pale, yellow light spread along the heavens 
and over the sea ; and the ship that a few minutes be- 
fore had looked like a white-winged phantom floating 
over a sea of fire, now assumed the appearance of a 
maiden decked in her bridal robes. 

A man of short, stout figure, a sort of compromise 
between an alderman and a dwarf, with very short legs, 
a broad red face, wide mouth, crispy grey hair that 
stood nearly erect on his head, a red, punky nose, and 
keen, grey eyes, paced watchfully up and down the 
quarter-deck. He was dressed in white pantaloons and 
jacket, both fitting tight to his skin, and wore a Panama 
hat, with a long black ribbon streaming behind. 


88 


TIIE VON TOOELEBtTRGS. 


He would pause at the hand-rail every few minutes, 
scan eagerly along the sky from north to south, as if 
studying the strange and sudden changes that were 
going on in the heavens. Then he would exchange a 
few words with the officer of the watch, and resume his 
walk. Eight bells had just struck, the wind began to 
freshen and veer to the southwest, and the sky became 
overcast and filled with white, fleecy clouds. 

An order was given to take in studding-sails and get 
the ship “snug” for the night, and quickly obeyed. 
Order and regularity prevailed on board the good ship 
Pacific ; and the promptness and cheerfulness with 
which both officers and men performed their duties 
showed that they had a more than ordinary interest in 
the ship and her voyage. Fashion had not then made 
slaves and idlers of our young men of wealthy parents, 
and it was, indeed, thought no disgrace for a gentleman 
of position to send his sons on one of these voyages, to 
do duty before the mast. It taught them how to face 
danger and endure hardships. It developed their man- 
liness, and made them more self-reliant. It gave them 
a knowledge of the world they could not get elsewhere, 
and laid a good foundation for a fixed and lasting char- 
acter. Indeed, some of our richest and most enterpris- 
ing merchants have dated their prosperity from one of 
these voyages. 

The short, bluff-looking man pacing the quarter-deck 
was Captain Price Bottom ; and a more honest-hearted 
old salt never sailed the sea. His great skill in killing 
whales had made him famous among whalemen through- 
out the Pacific. He had made three successful voyages, 
bringing home cargoes that had enriched his owners, 
put money in his own pocket, and secured him a repu- 
tation he esteemed of more value than a fortune. In 


CAPTAIN BOTTOM, THE WHALE-KILLER. 89 

truth, he regarded whales just as a terrier does rats, 
and found his highest enjoyment in killing them. And 
yet nothing pleased him better than when a whale 
showed pluck, as he called it, and made a square, fierce 
fight for his life. A man had a chance then to show 
his skill and power over the brute, he said. He held, 
too, that man's highest object in life was to know how 
to kill a whale skilfully ; and he heartily despised the 
whale “ as would submit quietly to the harpoon, and 
die like a lubber." He also affected great contempt 
for the landsman who had lived like a gentleman, and 
never killed a whale in his life. 

“ There's no lunar to-night," said Captain Bottom, 
pausing at the quarter-deck rail, and addressing him- 
self to the officer of the watch. “ There’s a goin' to 
be dirt, sir, there is ; and them royals and topgallant- 
sails is got to cum in. Would’nt surprise me if we 
had to double-reef topsails afore mornin'. Tell you 
what it is, Mr. Higgins, there’s that ar north star with 
a towel over her face again. Sink me if there'll be any 
lunar took to-night." The captain shook his head, 
gave his Panama a tip, and walking aft, stood beside 
the binnacle watching the compasses for several min- 
utes. Then returning to where the officer of the watch 
stood, he resumed : 

“ Never made a bad landfall in my life, Mr. Higgins. 
Never shall be said of Captain Price Bottom that he 
lost his reckonin'. It's judgment ; yes, Mr. Higgins, 
it's good judgment and sound sense what makes a good 
sailor. A man may cram his skull till it hurts with 
Bowditch, but if he hain’t sense he'll never be a sailor. 
Same in killin’ whales. If a man has'nt got sense, the 
whale is sure to get the advantage of him." Again 
he paused, as if courting a reply ; but Mr. Higgins 


90 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


merely bowed assent to everything the captain said, 
every few minutes keeping an eye aloft at the sails. 

“Man what gets his navigation aboard ship knows 
his business. Got mine there ; yes, sir ! Did’nt know 
a Bowditch from a Bible when I went aboard ship. 
Can do my amplitude and variations now without look- 
ing at a nautical almanac. Can, sir, by Jove !” 

The ship bounded gallantly over the sea, leaving in 
her wake a long silvery train of phosphoric light. 
Drawing no response from Mr. Higgins, the captain 
raised his night-glass and scanned along the heavens to 
the west. “ We’ll get somethin’ out o’ that quarter, 
butt end foremost,” said the captain, lowering his 
glass. 

Mr. Higgins was first officer of the ship, a position 
secured to him, not because he had worked his way up 
to it, but through the influence of a rich father, who 
was a large owner in the ship and her venture. He 
was a tall, well-formed, fine-looking young man, with 
delicate and well-cut features, and black hair. He was 
also a fine scholar and a perfect master of the theory of 
navigation, and a voyage or two to Europe had given 
him a slight knowledge of the practical part of it. Yet 
he was more an ornamental than a practical sailor ; and 
it was this that made Captain Bottom, the whale-killer, 
hold him in no very high respect. Indeed, he had 
several times said, in the presence of Mr. Higgins, that 
it was all very well for a young gentleman to be a 
scholar ; but a sailor what had his head full of books 
never made a fortune for his owners. 

“ Eight and forty hours more, Mr. Higgins ! Yes, 
sir, eight and forty hours more — keepin’ her as she’s 
going— and we have the land off Bahia.” Captain 
Bottom gave his head a significant shake as he spoke. 


CAPTAIN BOTTOM, THE WHALE-KILLEB. 91 

“ Using judgment, you see ; not books, Mr. Higgins. 
Captain Price Bottom lias sailed seventeen years, and 
never was deceived by that chart. Don’t make charts 
now as they used to make ’em, Mr. Higgins,” he con- 
cluded, shrugging his shoulders. 

The wind now came over the sea roaring like a fierce 
lion, indicating the rapid approach of the gale. 

“ If we make land off Bahia in forty-eight hours, 
then I’m mistaken,” rejoined the first officer, satiri- 
cally. “ There’s something coming that will give us 
enough to do before morning.” 

The words had hardly escaped his lips when the full 
force of the gale struck the ship, roaring and shrieking 
through her shrouds, and nearly throwing her on her 
beam ends. The sea was soon lashed into a tempest, 
and made a clean Sweep over her decks. The canvas 
was carried clean from the bolt-ropes, the sheets were 
let go, and the lighter sails clewed up, and an attempt 
made to get the ship’s head to the wind and lay her to. 
But the mizzen-sails were all gone, and she fell off, and 
refused to obey her helm. The lashings had given way, 
and the larboard, waist, and quarter boats were all 
swept from the davits, the frames sprung, and every 
timber in the good ship’s hull worked, and strained, 
and complained, like a frail thing that must soon go to 
pieces. Every order, however, was obeyed promptly 
and cheerfully, for both officers and crew felt that their 
lives, as well as the saving of the ship, depended on the 
way in which each man performed his duty. 

Just before the gale came up five young men, includ- 
ing Tite, might have been seen grouped together in the 
waist of the ship, pondering over a chart. Several 
books and nautical instruments were lying around. 
They were all, except Tite, young men of wealthy 


92 


THE VOH TOODLEBURGS. 


parents, who had joined the ship to 6njoy the excitements 
of a whaling voyage. These young men, with Tite, 
had formed a school of instruction, and every evening 
got together in the same place to improve their knowl- 
edge in practical navigation. One of them, a young 
man who had endeared himself to all on hoard by his 
courage and the gentleness of his manners, was third 
mate, and took a leading part in instructing the others. 
It would, indeed, have been difficult to find two young 
men whose characters bore a stronger resemblance than 
his and Tite’s. Between them there grew up the 
strongest friendship. 

The ship was now laboring in the trough of the sea, 
when a loud crash was heard aloft. The fore, main, 
and mizzen top-gallant masts had gone in rapid suc- 
cession, and the swaying mass of wreck was threatening 
the destruction of the ship. Death now stared every 
one in the face. There was no hope of saving the ship 
and the lives of those on board, except in the strength 
and courage of those willing to go aloft and clear away 
the wreck. But who was there to do this perilous 
work? 

Amidst the confusion caused by the excited elements 
there was the sturdy little captain, calm and cool, and 
giving his orders with that clearness and decision which 
had always characterized him. Men were called for to 
go aloft and cut away the swaying wreck, and save the 
ship. The first to obey this summons was young Tite 
Toodleburg, whose example was followed by the young 
man I have described as third mate, and one of his 
companions. They mounted the fore, main, and mizzen 
rigging, and working with all their strength and skill 
soon had the swaying wreck cut away, and the ship 
relieved of her strain. But in descending, the third 


CAPTAIN BOTTOM, THE WHALE-KILLER. 93 

mate, who had so gallantly performed his duty, lost 
his hold, and the ship giving a terrible lurch, he was 
plunged into the sea, and seen no more. 

The ship now gradually righted, and with the aid of 
a storm-sail in her mizzen rigging, for her top-sail had 
been torn into shreds, her head was got to the wind. 

In that latitude gales of this kind are of short du- 
ration, generally ; and in half an hour from the time 
it struck the ship there was a calm, smooth sea, and all 
hands were engaged repairing damages. 

On the following morning the ship was proceeding 
on her course, with a light breeze from the north and a 
clear sky. Captain Bottom was there on the quarter- 
deck, directing affairs, and in a talkative mood. 

“ She’s a good ship, sir, this old Pacific is, Mr. Hig- 
gins said he, again addressing that officer. “ Never 
knew her get off her feet before.” He always spoke of 
the ship as if she were a thing of life. “ Bless her 
staunch old soul ! Made her timbers talk, eh ? Wants 
a man as has got confidence in the craft what’s under 
him. Then if she goes down, why he feels like being 
a hero and keeping her company. 

“But it makes me feel bad, Mr. Higgins, that we 
have lost our third mate, poor fellow ! He was a good 
sailor, and a brave young man, and had such good 
friends at home, who thought so much of him.” And 
as he said this tears glistened in his eyes, and ran down 
his cheeks. “ I’m sorry for that young man, I am, sol 
am, Mr. Higgins,” said the old sailor, wiping the tears 
from his bronzed cheeks. “ I do hope his soul will sail 
in peace in a better world.” Again he shook his head 
sorrowfully, and then paused for a minute as if to 
regain control of his feelings. “ God forgive me/’ he 


94 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


resumed, cc for making a woman of myself. Don't do 
it often, Mr. Higgins." 

“ Shows that you have a kind heart, sir, and can shed 
a tear when it is touched. I appreciate you for it. 
There is something manly in the tear of a brave sailor," 
returned the officer, coldly, but politely. “ We shall 
get a good observation to-day, and if the men work 
hearty all the spare spars and sails will be up by night- 
fall." Mr. Higgins's mind was evidently on his duty, 
and not being inclined to enjoy the captain's conversa- 
tion, he took every opportunity to change the subject. 

“ Give us your hand, Mr. Higgins," said he, rather 
unannoyed than otherwise by what that officer had 
said. “ But look you here l" He lowered his voice as 
he took the officer’s hand. There’ll be no whales to 
kill where that poor fellow has gone. Not a whale. 
I promised his poor old father — a good old red coat 
killer he was, too, in the Revolution — that this here son 
of his should kill the first whale. Yes, I did, Mr. Hig- 
gins. And that’s what mortifies me. He’s dead, you 
see, poor fellow. T’was’nt my fault that I did'nt keep 
my promise. There’ll be no whales to kill where he’s 
gone, poor fellow!" Again he shook his head feel- 
ingly, then raising his hat, wiped the sweat from his 
bronzed brow. 

He now sent for Tite, who came upon the quarter- 
deck nervously, and saluted his superior. “ Well, my 
hearty," said Captain Bottom, “ here's my hand. 
You’re a sailor, every inch on you. And a brave man, 
too, if Captain Bottom does say it." Tite was not a 
little surprised at this familiarity on the part of his 
captain, for he had before coming on board been led to 
believe that the most severe discipline ruled on board a 
whale ship. 


CAPTAIN BOTTOM, TIIE WIIALE-KILLER. 


95 


“ There’s tlic true sailor in you, my hearty, ” con- 
tinued the captain, again shaking Tite warmly by the 
hand. “ You saved the ship, my hearty. There’d a 
bin no more of the good old Pacific — God bless her! 
nor none of us standin' here, but for you, my hearty.” 

“ I only done my duty, sir/’ rejoined Tite, modestly, 
as the color came into his face. “ I hope, captain, to 
merit your praise to the end of the voyage/ ' The 
young sailor made a bow, and was about returning to 
his duty. 

“Avast, a bit,” interrupted the captain. “Your 
name's Toodlebug, is'nt it, my hearty?” 

“Yes, sir,” replied Tite. “Titus Bright Toodle- 
burg ; usually called Tite. Hope, sir, to improve 
myself in navigation and seamanship undeV your com- 
mand. I shall always feel proud, sir, that I sailed 
with you. Some one may trust me with a ship some 
day.” 

“That's the talk, my hearty; keep a sharp look 
ahead,” rejoined the captain, his face lighting up with 
a smile. “Cram Bowditch into yer head, and keep a 
sharp look ahead. Have ye so ye can bring the sun 
down to dinner and put the north star in yer pocket 
afore ye get round Cape Horn. You'll be a sailor yet, 
my hearty.” Again Captain Bottom shook Tite by the 
hand warmly. 

“ Git yer head full of navigation ; and with good 
judgment to help ye out, ye can look an owner in the 
eye without winking, and tell him ye want a ship. And 
if that recommendation don’t do, tell him you have 
killed whales with Captain Bottom, a man what never 
let a whale git the better of him. And if he has never 
heard of Captain Price Bottom, of the good old ship 
Pacific, then he never should own a ship, and don't 


96 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


sail for him. That's my advice, my hearty. So keep 
a sharp look out ahead." Here he tapped Tite on the 
shoulder, exultingly. 

“ It’s very kind of you," returned Tite, modestly, 
“ to take this interest in me, a stranger to you. I shall 
do my best to merit your confidence and respect." 

“A stranger, eh? Not a bit of it!" resumed the 
captain, quickly. “ Look ye here, my hearty. Your 
good old father and me was old friends. That was 
years ago, you know. Meeting you brings an old love 
affair of thirty years right back to my heart again. 
Yes, my hearty, that old feelin’s just as good as new 
this minute. God bless yer father ; and (3-od bless yer 
mother, too ! Here’s a hand what’ll always give a warm 
welcome to the son of old Hanz Toodlebug " 

“ Then you knew my father? I hope, sir, I may 
never do anything to lessen your respect for him." 

“Know’d him?" resumed the captain. “ Yes, sir, 
and yer mother, too. And when Captain Price Bottom 
says he know’d a man, he means it. Your father and 
me was rivals !’’ Here he touched Tite on the elbow, 
and winked significantly. “ That is — well, its rather 
a delicate subject — he courted yer mother, and so did I ! 
There, sir, there’s just what it is. She was as trim a 
young craft then as ever spread sails, and as full of 
goodness and good looks." Captain Bottom again 
paused for a moment, shook his head despondingly, and 
placed his hand on his heart. “A number of young 
bloods like me trimmed their sails, but did’nt overhaul 
her. Many a heart-flutter she caused me in them days. 
And just when I thought, says I to myself, c I’m to 

wind’rd,’ and had got ready to make fast to her ’’ 

Here he paused for a moment, and then lowering his 
voice, continued; “Well, what does she go and do? 


CAPTAIN BOTTOM, THE WHALE -KILLER. 


97 


Blow me, my hearty, if she did'nt go off and marry 
your father. That’s what dismasted me. Never bore 
him nor her any ill-will. ‘ God bless ye both/ says I ; 
‘may ye he happy and have a large family !’ And it 
does me good to know that they was prosperous. Your 
father had a home to take a woman to, and that is what 
a woman should look to. Price Bottom was poor then, 
and without a shillin’ in his pocket. It was disappoint- 
ment that made me take to the sea, though. Went from 
the fo’castle t’where you see me now — Captain Price 
Bottom, sir, of the good ship Pacific. It’s a man’s own 
exertion that lifts him up in the world. There’s my 
poor old woman at home to-night — God bless her and 
the two little ones ! thinking of me, and praying for 
me, and wondering where we are. Laid her up a nice 
little fortune ; wolf can’t hark at her door. That’s a 
gratification , my hearty. Made three successful voyages, 
you see. This, our fourth one, is to he the last. Keep 
a sharp look ahead, and there’s a future for you, too. 
Ah, there’ll be a heap of happiness a’ tween me and 
my old woman when this voyage is ended. A true wife 
at home, and a lovin’ husband at sea — ah, my hearty, 
them’s jewels!” 

Tite listened with surprise to the story of this strange 
and eccentric man. He had never heard either of his 
parents mention his name. He, however, regarded it 
as very fortunate that he should be on board a ship 
commanded by a captain who held his humble parents 
in such high regard. The jolly old sailor finished his 
story by enjoining Tite to keep what he had said a 
matter of confidence. He also made him third mate, 
to fill the place of the young man who fell from the 
fore-mast into the sea during the gale. 


98 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


‘•'You shall take a hand at killing the first whale ; 
shall command the larboard boat. And you shall never 
want a friend while Captain Price Bottom treads this 
quarter-deck/' he concluded. 

Tite bowed, and thanked his benefactor again. He 
then proceeded to his duty, as the ship headed for Bahia, 
with a fair wind. 


CHAPTER XI Y. 


THE COMING WINTER, AND A MERRY-MAKING. 

November was come now. The day I write of was 
damp and cheerless. Grey, vapory clouds swept over 
the Tappan Zee, and a sad, sighing wind tossed it into 
crests. A drizzling rain fell over Nyack, and the little 
town looked as if it had just taken a bath and gone to 
sleep for the night. The hills wore a cold and bleak 
look, the foliage had lost its bright, golden tints, and 
now looked faded and colorless. The leaves, too, were 
falling, and the naked trees seemed weeping and cold. 
Sheep browsed on the hill-sides, or nibbled coldly under 
the branches of sheltering trees. In the wet, dripping 
barn-yard cattle were seen huddled together under a 
lee, now seeking warmth in the fresh shocks, now pro- 
claiming their troubles in subdued lowing. 

The very landscape seemed weeping and melancholy. 
Even the summer birds, whose songs give such a charm 
to the woods, were gone. And there was the loon upon 
the lake gabbling his welcome to the approaching win- 
ter. The rain, too, had filled the brooks, and theii 
waters were gurgling down deep, shadowy dells, min- 
gling their touching music with the sad, sighing wind. 
There were pleasant memories entwined in that depart- 
ing summer ; and it now seemed as if all nature was 
joining in a requiem to its fading beauties. 

The settlers had gathered their winter fruit, and the 
cider-presses bad finished their work for the season. 
Squashes were hung up in the cellar, the corn was 


100 


THE VOX TOODLEBURGS. 


shucked and in the bins, and heaps of ripe, lusty pump- 
kins stood in the fields. In the houses fresh flitches of 
bacon hung by the fireside, while festoons of dried 
apples decorated the beams overhead. There, too, were 
the young nut-gatherers, coming home of an evening 
with their well-filled satchels. There was to be peace 
and plenty at the settlers' fireside this winter, for an 
all-wise Providence had so ordained it in an abundant 
harvest. 

It was a custom with Hanz Toodleburg, as it was 
also with many other of the settlers, to entertain his 
friends and neighbors with a merry-making when the 
harvest was gathered. Hanz had invited his neighbors 
on the evening of the day I have described, and not- 
withstanding the cold and cheerless character of the 
night, the little house was full ere it was dark. The 
bright, happy faces of the women, and the jolly, ring- 
ing laugh of the men, all dressed in their neat new 
homespun, presented a pleasant picture of rustic life! 
Each man came armed with a long pipe, while his good 
vrow had some little present for Angeline. Hanz had 
a warm, hearty shake of the hand for each of his guests. 
Indeed, he welcomed each of the good vrows with a 
kiss and an admonition to be happy while they were 
under his roof. And these good vrows put their hands 
to the wheel, and assisted Angeline in preparing the 
feast. Indeed, she soon had her table spread with as 
good and well-cooked fare as could be found in the 
county. 

There was the cold boar's head, decorated with flow- 
ers; the fattest turkey, roasted before the great fire; 
boiled beef, bathed in odorous krout, and declared deli- 
cacies by every sturdy Dutchman ; a spiced ham, deco- 
rated with vegetables. Then there were apple and 


THE COMING WINTER AND A MERRY-MAKING. 101 


pumpkin pies just baked, cuddled apples, and jam, and 
fresh cranberry sauce. And these were backed up with 
new cider and home-brewed ale, and coffee. Such was 
the supper Hanz had prepared for his friends, and which 
he invited them to eat and be happy. 

The good-natured Dominie was there, and so was 
Doctor Critchel and the school-master. Nor was 
Titus Bright, the inn-keeper, forgotten. They were 
equally important characters in the settlement, and no 
honest Dutchman, who had any regard for his reputa- 
tion for hospitality, would think of giving a merry- 
making without them. The good Dominie was fond 
of puddings and pies, and preached that the three 
highest objects a man had to live for were peace, con- 
tentment, and a good dinner. The Dutch regarded 
this as good enough religioU for them — better, perhaps, 
than that preached by the man of the church of pro- 
gressive ideas. The school-master could sing a good 
song, and, although an idle, shiftless fellow, got more 
invitations to supper than any other man in the settle- 
ment. As for the inn-keeper, he was a merry little 
man, who made everybody laugh, and was held in high 
esteem by all the good vrows around Nyack. 

Now that the supper was ready, there was a general 
exchange of vrows, for it was not considered etiquette 
to sit at table with your own wife during one of these 
feasts. Then the Dominie invoked God's blessing on 
the bounties He bad spread before them, thanked Him 
for the bountiful harvest, and for the love He had shown 
these happy people. He then proceeded to carve the 
boar’s head, while every man and woman present went 
to enjoying the feast. 

When supper was over and the table cleared away 
the men took to their pipes and discussed their crops, 


102 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


and the women discoursed of carding, and spinning, 
and housewifery in general. Then there was a dance 
around the apple-basket, and a dance in which every 
man kissed every other man's vrow, and in which the 
Dominie joined, and was as jolly as any of his flock. 
And they danced to the music of a fiddle, played by 
Lame George, who lived up in the mountain. Then 
the Dominie told a number of amusing stories, and the 
school-master sang them several of his best songs, and 
cider and ale was drank. 

x\nd while pleasantry was at its highest, a loud 
knock was heard at the door. The revelry ceased for a 
moment. There was the postmaster's hoy, bearing a 
letter with several curious stamps on it. Hanz was 
overjoyed. He shook the boy’s hand, and then scanned 
over the letter. “God pless mine poor poy, Titus !" he 
exclaimed. “He wrotes dat ledder. Yes, he does; 
mine poor poy Titus does and he struck his hands on 
his knees, and laughed with joy. “He ton't forgets 
his old fadder. He he's a goot poy, mine Titus." And 
he shook hands with the Dominie and the inn-keeper. 
Indeed, he seemed so completely unmanned that he was 
powerless to open the letter. Then he took a candle in 
his right hand, and again scanned and scanned the 
superscription. “Sumthin' goot in dat ledder. Mine 
poor poy Titus writes him!" he ejaculated, in a sub- 
dued tone. 

During all this time, for it seemed long to Angeline, 
she became pale with anxiety. Then tears gushed into 
her eyes and moistened her pale cheeks. But they were 
tears of joy, not sorrow — the wealth of that pure, 
honest heart now beating so violently in anticipation 
of the good tidings. When Hanz had somewhat con- 
trolled his feelings he sat down in the big chair, and 


THE COMING WINTER AND A MERRY-MAKING. 103 

with Angeline looking anxiously over his shoulder and 
holding the candle, opened and began reading the letter 
“ Yesh, t’is mine poor poy Titus as writes him,” he 
said, pausing for a moment. “ Hish name shust as he 
wrotes him when a poy.” The rest of the company 
looked on and listened in silence. Then he resumed 
the reading. “Veil, dere wash a pig sthorm, and t’ 
ship most goes down to t* pottom. Den she does’nt 
go to l' pottom. No, she no goes to t* pottom. Den 
mine poy, he shaves t’ ship.” Hanz went over the let- 
ter in this incoherent manner, and then handed it to the 
Dominie to read for the entertainment of the company. 
The letter was dated at Bahia, where the ship had put 
in for fresh supplies, as was the custom with whalers. 
He gave a glowing account of the voyage, and the storm, 
and the persons he found on board. The good Dominie 
was several times interrupted by some one of the com- 
pany invoking a blessing on Tite’s head. And when it 
was announced that he had been made third mate of 
the ship, an expression of joy broke on every lip. The 
school-master shook Hanz warmly by the hand, and the 
inn-keeper declared it would not surprise him if Tite 
came home captain of the ship. 

“ High, high !” exclaimed the Dominie, re-adjusting 
his spectacles ; “ here’s news. An old acquaintanca has 
turned up.” Then turning to Critchel, he touched 
that odd old gentleman on the elbow, saying: “ You 
remember the old grave-digger of thirty years ago, cli, 
Critchel?” 

“ Well, very well,” replied Critchel; “he was a 
clever old man, and did his business well. He used to 
say I brought people into the world, and he sent them 
out.” 


104 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


“ Bless me !” resumed the Dominie; “if here is’nt 
his son come to life again. The poor fellow ! we all 
knew him well. Tite says here that he has found a 
good friend in the captain, an old acquaintance of his 
mother. And who do you think it is?” 

Not one in the company could answer, although 
Angeline blushed, and looked confused. “Price Bot- 
tom, son of that clever old man, the grave-digger,” 
concluded the Dominie. 

“ How strange,” said the inn-keeper. “Old Bottom 
had many a glass of ale at my house, and never troubled 
anybody, except to dig their graves.” 

“ He was very poor,” rejoined Critchel, in a subdued 
voice, “ and died leaving my hill unpaid. But he was 
an honest man, and paid when he had it.” 

“The son was a queer young man,” resumed the 
Dominie. “Nobody seemed to care anything about 
him. And when he left the settlement it was thought 
he had got into the city and became a worthless. But 
here he is, made a man of himself, and has not forgot 
his old friends.” 

This was good news to Angeline and Hanz. Still 
the name of Price Bottom, the grave-digger’s son, re- 
vived old if not pleasant memories. The odd old cap- 
tain had not forgotten his first love. The flame of that 
love always burns, but never dies out. Disappointment 
may cross it, may for a time veil its charm, but never 
can quench it. How strange, Angeline thought, that 
her darling boy, the consolation of her heart, should 
have met this once discarded lover, and under such cir- 
cumstances. And that he should be such a friend and 
protector to her boy only showed how good a heart he 
had. 


THE COMING WINTER AND A MERRY-MAKING. 105 

The good news gave an additional charm to the even- 
ing’s entertainment. One after another shook Ilanz 
and Angeline by the hand, and congratulated them on 
the happy prospect. Indeed, they seemed the happiest 
people on earth. Mugs of fresh cider were tilled and 
drank to the health of Captain Price Bottom, of the 
good ship Pacific — the poor fellow who had only a 
grave-digger for a father, and left the settlement friend- 
less and without a shilling. 

And now these sturdy settlers again took to their 
pipes, and having smoked in silence for at least five 
minutes, embraced and kissed their hosts, and parted 
for the night. 


CHAPTEK XV. 

MRS. CHAPMAN AND THE UPPER CIRCLES. 

Let us go back, gentle reader, into the village of 
Nyack on that same damp, stormy night, and into the 
house of Bigelow Chapman, the reformer. A very dif- 
ferent picture was presented there. The reformer was 
up stairs, studying plans for the future. His spacious 
parlor was furnished with a profusion of furniture, of 
the most approved style, and such as was not common 
in the country at that day. They have got a new piano, 
too ; and a nice young gentleman in reduced circum- 
stances, a foreigner, is expected up from Hew York to 
give their daughter lessons on it. This little affair of 
the piano and the foreigner has set the whole town to 
talking, and people are putting on grave faces, and 
inquiring how they can afford it. But it seems they 
do afford it, and also to have the best of carpets on their 
parlor floor. And they have shown a taste for art in 
several engravings hung on the walls. 

The Chapmans expected company from the city that 
night. A bright coal fire and a globe lamp on the 
centre-table are shedding a soft, mellow light, and 
adding an air of comfort and cheerfulness to everything 
in the room. 

Mattie was sitting alone in the parlor reading a letter 

by the light on the centre-table. Her dress was a plain 

black silk, made high at the neck, and with an open 

stomacher, disclosing an aggravating hit of white lace. 

There was always something neat and becoming in 

Mattie’s dress, and the white ruflles that now encircled 

her neck and wrists added the charm of simplicity to 
106 


MRS. CHAPMAN AND THE UPPER CIRCLES. 107 

her appearance. Her hair, too, was almost golden, and 
hung in long, careless curls down her shoulders. 

There was something of deep interest to- her in that 
letter, for she read and re-read it, as her soft, blue eyes, 
so full of love and tenderness, almost filled with tears. 
Then she kissed it, and kissed it, and pressed it to hei 
bosom. “Oh, how I wish he was here to-night, that 1 
could tell him how much I love him ;” she said, resting 
her head on her hand thoughtfully. “ I would tell him 
all my thoughts and feelings, just as he has told me his. 
He is so true to me, and it never shall be said that I am 
not true to him, poor fellow !” she mused, and putting 
the letter to her lips again she kissed and kissed it. 
“ They never can get me to love any one else, never !” 
she resumed, when the door opened and Mrs. Chapman 
entered, arrayed in her best millinery, and her front 
hair screwed into the tightest of curls. The good wo- 
man had evidently resolved to put on her very best ap- 
pearance. 

“These disappointments are very annoying, my 
daughter, very/’ she spoke, advancing and fretting her 
hand nervously. “If our company does not come ? 
then — well, all our dressing will be for nothing. I 
wanted you so much to see Mr. Gusher, my daughter. 
He’s such a nice young gentleman, so clever and agree- 
able — a nd has such a distinguished look, my daughter.” 
Mrs. Chapman expanded herself, while emphasizing the 
word distinguished. She then filled the great arm-chair 
with her weighty person. “ To get prepared for com- 
pany, and city company at that, and then have company 
not come!” she resumed, casting a glance at Mattie, to 
see if she could discern in her countenance what impres- 
sion she had made. But Mattie remained silent and 
thoughtful. 


108 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


“It’s not Mr. Gusher’s fault, though. We must 
charge it all to the storm, I suppose. Then I did want 
you to see Mr. Gusher so much, my daughter. He is 
such a nice young man — and has such prospects. And 
prospects is what a young woman should look to when 
gentlemen come seriously inclined to matrimony ” 

“ Mother,” said Mattie, interrupting, “I have got 
such a nice letter. It has made me so happy. I know 
you would like to read it. You always like to read my 
letters, you know/’ And Mattie looked playfully in 
her mother’s face, and handed her the letter. “ You 
will he delighted to hear from him. He says so many 
kind, good things.” 

Mrs. Chapman took the letter and scanned over it 
hastily. “And so it has come to this, has it?” she 
said, looking admonishingly at Mattie. “A letter from 
that sailor-hoy, the son of them common Dutch people. 
Your father shall see this. Our daughter has stooped 
so low as to pledge herself to such a common man!” 

“I love you, mother,” said Mattie, “and I don’t 
want to be disobedient ; but I love him, and I know he 
loves me. Yes, mother, I love Tite just as much as if 
he was a rich man’s son. I dreamed last nigbt that he 
came home a rich man, and brought me so many nice 
things ; and that we were married, and were so happy.” 
And she threw her arms around her mother’s neck and 
kissed her so affectionately. “Who knows, mother, 
hut that he may come home rich ? But even if he comes 
home poor, I know he will be good and true to me,” she 
concluded. 

“ How very sentimental you are, my daughter,” re- 
joined Mrs. Chapman, the little curls about v her brow 
seeming to get tighter as her broad face grew redder. 
“Sentimental people never prosper, though — never 


MRS. CHAPMAN AND THE UPPER CIRCLES. 109 

knew one yet that did. Was silly and sentimental once 
myself. That was before I married your father/ ’ 

“Oh,” rejoined Mattie, playfully, “I am real glad 
that you remember those things, mother. Was father 
rich when you were married ?” 

Mrs. Chapman shook her head, and looked confused 
for a moment. “ He was not rich, my daughter. But 
then he was so clever — and had such intellectual pros- 
pects. Brought up as you have been, my daughter, and 
with such accomplishments, and such prospects! — -to 
throw yourself away on a sentiment. Just think of it ! 
What would my mother have said if I had gone off and 
married a man just for sentiment’s sake? I brought 
you up in strict regard to all the proprieties, and now 
you insist that you won’t be a lady.” 

“ Don’t fret so, mother,” said Mattie, again putting 
her arms around her mother’s neck, and kissing her. 
“ I will be a real good, obedient girl, and do anything 

you bid me. But then ” Here Mattie paused for 

a moment, and looked roguishly up into her mother’s 
face. 

“ But then — what?” 

“Well, I don’t think we shall agree about Mr. 
Gusher. The truth is, mother — I don’t know why — but 
then I don’t think I ever can love him. But then, you 
know, mother, I have not seen him yet; and you 
would’nt have me love a man before I saw him?” 

“ Perhaps not, my daughter ; but I would have you 
look up, remember your quality, and consider what you 
may be. If you condescend to look down on that sailor- 
boy, there’s no hope of the family ever moving in the 
upper circles. But he’ll never come back. That 
ship’ll go to the bottom as sure as the world. Some- 
thing tells me she will go down, and I know she will.” 


110 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


At this Mattie's eyes filled with tears, and she buried 
her face in her hands and gave vent to her emotions in 
sobs. “ Mother, mother," she rejoined, after a short 
pause, “ how cruel of you to say so, even if you thought 
so. He was so manly, and so kind to me." 

At this Mrs. Chapman rose from her chair with an 
air of injured dignity, and walked in silence up and 
down the room for several minutes. Then she heaved 
a sigh, extended her hand, and resumed : “ Your tears,, 
my daughter, are what tear down my pride. Ho use, I 
see ; my advice is all thrown away — all thrown away t 
Oh, what a thing it is to have a daughter, and yet not 
have a daughter. I mean to have a daughter that will 
have her own way." Again Mrs. Chapman resumed 
her chair, and became thoughtful and silent. 

“ You know I love to please you, mother, for you are 
such a good mother to me in everything else," rejoined 
Mattie, kneeling beside her mother, placing her arms 
on her knees, and looking up lovingly in her face. 
“ You know I like to please you, mother," she repeated ; 
and 1 won't marry anybody until Tito comes home. 
But then you must not say anything more to me about 
Mr. Gusher." 

“ That’s poor consolation — very poor consolation, my 
daughter," replied Mrs. Chapman, rebukingly. “Ex- 
actly what I did’nt want you to promise. Then you 
have promised yourself to the young man? I’d never 
have got your father if I’d made such a promise to such 
a young man. I have always looked forward to the 
time when we should have a fine house on the Battery,, 
and move in the higher circles." 

Chapman now entered the room, which put an end to 
the conversation between Mattie and her mother. Chap- 
man smiled for once, and was evidently in a pleasant 


MRS. CHAPMAN AND THE UPPER CIRCLES. 


Ill 


mood. After rubbing bis hands and taking a seat by 
the fire, and looking first at Mattie and then at her 
mother, he said : “ I have good news to tell you. The 
storm has prevented Gusher from getting here to-night. 
But the Kidd Discovery Company matter is settled, and 
will be a great success. No need of inventing a new 
religion now. Hanz has got his head full of the pro- 
ject. Has made all his Dutch neighbors believe there 
is a fortune in it for them all. We go on an expedition 

up the river to-morrow night, in search of the d l’s 

sounding-rock. That's the place where Kidd buried 
his treasure, you see. These honest old Dutchmen 
firmly believe that Kidd had an understanding with the 
devil when he buried it there. Just show them how to 
start an enterprise and make money, and they are as 
ready to make it as anybody.” 


CHAPTER XVT. 


A NIGHT EXPEDITION. 

The wind and the cold had moderated, and a heavy 
grey mist hung over the Tappan Zee on the following 
night. Hollow, echoing sounds came over and through 
the mist clouds, and re-echoed up the mountain. The 
scene was one common at that season of the year ; still 
there was something strange and mysterious in the very 
atmosphere that composed it. Gloom hung over every- 
thing, and touched a melancholy chord in one's feelings. 
Curious figures, dim and indistinct, seemed to move and 
dance up and down, and thread their way through the 
curtain of mist, like phantoms in winding sheets. 
They were but delusions, betraying the eye. But there 
is a reality now ; a steamer is seen cutting her way 
through the deep gloom, and throwing a long trail ol 
light high up over the grey mist and reflecting curiously 
in the heavens. 

Two stalworth men were seen walking down the road 
that night about eight o’clock, dressed in a style com- 
mon to boatmen. One carried a pair of oars over his 
shoulder ; the other had a well-filled haversack slung 
across his, and a crowbar in his right hand. They 
halted on reaching Bright’s inn, and having stacked 
the oars and the bar against the little porch, entered, 
and were greeted by a number of friends already 
refreshing themselves at the counter. The appearance 
of these men — for they were known to be the best boat- 
men on the Tappan Zee — greatly surprised Bright and 
the gossips who were enjoying his ale around a little 


A NIGHT EXPEDITION. 


113 


table. One and then another invited them to drink, 
hut they refused, saying they had merely dropped in to 
light their pipes and look for the men who were to join 
them. Various questions were now put to them con- 
cerning their mission and its object. But the boatmen 
affected a mysterious air ; and all that could be got 
from them was that when they returned it would be 
with money enough to buy all Nyack. They seemed 
somewhat disappointed at not meeting some one, whose 
■name they would not disclose, at the inn. 

Bright now mixed warm punches and set them before 
the boatmen, saying that on such a night they were 
just what were needed to prop a man's courage up. 
The men, however, steadily refused all invitations to 
drink, and when they had lighted their pipes, and bid 
the host and his customers good night, left the inn and 
proceeded to a landing at the bank of the river, where 
a boat with two men in it was waiting them. 

The manners of the boatmen had so excited the curi- 
osity of the inn-keeper and his guests, that no sooner 
had they left the inn than Bright and several others put 
on their hats and followed, resolved to see for them- 
selves what was going on. Imagine, then, what must 
have been their surprise to find the men in the boat 
Bigelow Chapman and Hanz Toodleburg — both with 
heavy overcoats on. The boatmen were welcomed by 
the men in the boat, whose voices were plainly heard, 
and after exchanging a few words they threw in their 
oars carelessly and followed themselves. In another 
minute the little craft was heading up the stream, and 
disappeared in the thick mist. 

“I have it all!" said Bright, turning to his com- 
panions with an assuring nod of the head, and lowering 
his voice. 4 ‘ Toodleburg— Chapman— a Dutchman and a 


114 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


Yankee — pick-axes, crowbars, and big ropes. Put them 
all together ; add going off at night to it — dark and 
misty night at that — and there's something we'll all 
hear from in the wind. If Hanz and that quarrelsome 
Yankee have got their heads together, then the devil 
will get cheated out of Kidd’s money. Sarves him 
right, too. Now them two is after Kidd's money. 
Always knew old Hanz could tell where it was." 

The inn-keeper and his friends now returned to the 
inn and discussed the matter over warm punch until 
nearly midnight, or until their wits became so confused 
that the four men in the boat increased to forty. In 
short, Nyack waked up on the following morning to find 
herself filled with the wildest reports concerning this 
midnight expedition and its object. 

The little boat moved on steadily up the stream, her 
sturdy oarsmen pulling at a measured stroke through 
the bewildering fog. In this way the boat was kept on 
up the river until past midnight, a glimpse of the land 
being caught here and there, an assurance to Hanz that 
they were not far out at sea. Indeed, Hanz began to 
get somewhat uneasy, and to wish himself back with 
Angeline in the little house. As this expedition, how- 
ever, was to establish a solid basis for the great Kidd 
Discovery Company, out of which a fortune for Tite 
was to come, he was willing to run the risk of being 
lost in the fog for a night or two. 

Towards morning the men became uneasy and hun- 
gry, and began cursing Kidd and all connected with 
him, and enquired of Chapman if he knew where he 
was going. Indeed, one of them declared it his belief 
that they had been brought on a fool’s errand. Chap- 
man, however, assured them that he knew exactly 
where Kidd had buried his treasure — that it was on a 


A NIGHT EXPEDITION. 


115 


point not many miles below the Highlands, and under 

a big rock called the d Ts sounding stone. That if 

they kept on they would reach the place befofe day- 
break. Hanz assured the men that every word Chap- 
man said concerning Kidd was true, and this inspired 
their confidence, for they honestly believed his father 
to be an intimate friend of the pirate, and of course 
ought to know all about his money. 

The boatmen now rested their oars and proceeded to 
refresh themselves. And while they were doing this, 
and wondering what this night expedition really meant, 
Hanz smoked his pipe and nursed his courage. In his 
heart, however, he wished himself out of the affair and 
in a more honest occupation. As for Chapman, he told 
a number of stories tended to excite the cupidity of the 
boatmen. After resting an hour or two the party pro- 
ceeded about five. miles further up the river, and landed 
just at daybreak on a point jutting into the west side 
of the river, and just above which there was a dilapi- 
dated little cabin, inhabited by a laboring man and his 
wife. 

It would not do to disturb these poor people at so 
early an hour, Chapman said, nor to tell them what 
sort of a mission we were on. Thereupon Hanz and he 
proceeded up the bank of the river, to make, as he said, 
a discovery. So the boatmen were left to take care of 
themselves. The boatmen waited for nearly two hours, 
still neither Chapman nor Hanz returned. Where they 
had gone was fast becoming a mystery. The men at 
length became alarmed and disappointed, and proceeded 
towards the little house to enquire the name of the 
place, and see what they could do to get breakfast. 

, Before they reached the house, however, the door opened 
and two half-naked, tow-headed urchins came toddling 


116 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


out, and as soon as they saw the strangers scampered 
back in a state of great alarm. A lusty dame, ragged 
and shoeless, and with her hair hanging loose about 
her neck, now came to the door, with a broom in one 
hand and a frying-pan in the other. 

“ Where on arth are you two come from ?” enquired 
the woman, in a surly tone, as she raised her broom. 
“ Another lot o’ fools corn’d to look for Mr. Kidd’s 
money,” she continued, without waiting for a reply. 
4 ‘Seems as if all the folks at ween this and Yonkers had 
got craz} r about Mr. Kidd, and was a cornin’ up here to 
dig for his money.” 

The men confessed that she was right in regard to 
their mission, and begged that she would get them 
some breakfast, for which they would pay her liberally. 

“Yes!” rejoined the woman, angrily, “I know’d 
what you’d cum fur. Thar ain’t nothin’ in this house 
to get breakfast on — nothin’ fur my poor old man and 
the two little children. Work’s hard to get up here. 
And them fools what comes up here to dig for Mr. Kidd’s 
money eat up what little we had, and did’nt pay fur 
it, nither. Go home, like honest men, and get some 
honester work than cornin’ up here thinkin’ you kin 
find Mr. Kidd’s money. Don’t believe in Mr. Kidd — I 
don’t!” The woman kept swinging her broom as she 
spoke. Then the two children ventured back and 
peered from behind her skirts at the strangers. “ Don’t 
believe he had any money, anyhow. If he had he was 
a mighty fool to come up here and bury it. People 
round here would ’a stole every dollar on it long ago. 
There’s a Yankee and a Dutchman diggin’ a big hole 
a piece above here— expectin’ to find Mr. Kidd’s 
money.” 


A NIGHT EXPEDITION. 


117 


Such was the reception these boatmen met with at 
the hands of Mrs. Brophy, whose husband, a short, 
thick-shouldered, bullet-headed son of the Emerald 
Isle, with a short, black pipe in his wide mouth, and 
in his shirt and trousers, came to the door and seated 
himself on the sill. 

“ Is it Misther Kidd's money ye’s is afther?” he 
enquired, querulously, putting his elbows on bis knees 
and resting his head in his hands. “ Much luck may 
ye’s have finding it. Divel a cint meself iver saw uv 
Misther Kidd's money, an’ we’ve liv’d here this two 
years an’ more. It’s mighty little uv any other man’s 
money — not enough, troth, to get bread for the child- 
her — have we seen.” 

The boatmen enquired of Mr. Brophy if he could tell 
them where the devil’s sounding-stone was. There 
was indeed a superstition amongst these poor people 
that Kidd had buried his money under a rock he gave 
that name to ; and that there was an agreement with 
his satanic majesty, who was to stand guard over it, 
and allow only those who had the talisman to lay hands 
on it. This talisman, it was also believed, would open 
the devil’s conscience, and cause him to lift the stone 
and unlock the great iron chest containing the gold and 
silver. Loud noises, it was said, were heard under the 
stone, which was the voice of the devil rebuking the 
follies of the men who came iD search of this treasure. 
These poor people also believed that Kidd had murdered 
a woman in cold blood, and buried her under the same 
stone ; that she would come to life when it was lifted ; 
and that her ghost haunted the spot every night, and 
not less than a score of Dutchmen had seen it. The 
more religious of them declared that the ghost would 
hold communion only with a certain priest, who came 


118 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


once a year, at midnight, to invoke in an unknown 
tongue a blessing on her troubled spirit. 

“ The divel's soundin’-stone is it ye’s wants ?” 
ejaculated Mr. Brophy. ec Shure, it’s beyant — a mile, 
about — perhaps two— perhaps not so many — perhaps 
more. Much good may it do ye’s when ye’s finds it. 
An', an’, an’, the ghost standin’ there ivery night.’' 
Mr. Brophy resumed his pipe, and after two or three 
whiffs resumed: “Ye’s may dig holes till yer child- 
hers wears rags, as mine does, an’ not a motffehfull uv 
bread in the house, an’ not a cint of Misther Kidd’s 
money ye’d git. An’ the ghost standin' there, too!” 

Being satisfied that these poor people had nothing to 
give them to eat, the boatmen presented the woman 
with two dollars and what liquor there was in their 
flask, telling her to spend the money in bread for the 
children. This little act of kindness so softened the 
poor woman’s feelings that she invoked numerous bless- 
ings on their heads ; adding at the same time that it 
was more money than she had seen for a month, though 
persons in search of Kidd’s gold and silver had beset 
her house. 

The men now returned to their boat, and breakfasted 
on what they had in their haversack. And when it 
was nearly noon, and they were beginning to get 
alarmed, Chapman returned, apparently in the best of 
spirits, and accompanied them to a comfortable farm- 
house, about a mile up the bank. Here they found 
Hanz, very contentedly smoking his pipe, in the com- 
pany of two others, who at first affected to be strangers. 
It soon became apparent, however, that these men had 
met Hanz and Chapman here by appointment. And it 
was also apparent that they were engaged in the same 
business of searching for Kidd’s treasure. One was an 


A NIGHT EXPEDITION. 


119 


ill-favored, talkative little man, who wore spectacles 
and the shabbiest of clothing, and seemed to pride him- 
self in a bushy red beard and hair. In short, he was 
about as delapidated a specimen of rejected humanity 
as Nature in one of her wildest freaks could have pro- 
duced. Indeed, I may as well inform the reader that 
this person was Warren Holbrook, who, since his de- 
parture from Nyack, had been enlightening the people 
of this neighborhood by preaching the gospel of the 
< ‘ great advanced ideas/’ and in that way picking up 
enough to keep the wolf from the door, though it would 
not put clothes on his hack. 

Holbrook declared that the world had not used him 
well generally ; hut he never thought of looking into 
himself for the cause. He was willing, however, to 
relinquish the gospel of the advanced ideas for a busi- 
ness that would put money in his pocket and clothes on 
his hack. Here he was, then, engaged in the business 
of getting up the great Kidd Discovery Company, by 
which every man who invested in it was to make a 
fortune. 

The other was a slender, well-formed young man, 
perhaps twenty-five or six years old, of dark olive com- 
plexion, and black, oily hair that curled all over his 
head. His large black eyes were full of softness and 
were well set under beautifully arched-brows. There 
was, indeed, a moorish cast about his features, which 
were prominent and well lined ; and when he spoke, 
which he did with a foreign accentation, he disclosed a 
row of white, polished teeth, every one set with perfect 
regularity. His hands, too, were soft and delicate, and 
on each of his little fingers he wore a large seal ring. 
He wore, also, a heavy gold neck-chain, and his dress 
was of plain black, made in the latest style and in great 


120 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


good taste. Romantic young girls just out in society 
might have been excused for selecting just such a man 
as a model lover. 

The young man I have described above so neatly 
dressed, was Philo Gusher, of the great accommodating 
house of Topman and Gusher, extensively engaged in 
making discoveries and fortunes for all persons kind 
enough to honor them with their investments. 

The boatmen found these men in a room at the farm- 
house, seated around a table on which stood a bucket 
half filled with what appeared to be ugly black sand. 
Just as they entered Mr. Gusher rose from his seat and 
exclaimed : 

“Greatest discovery what was ever made. There is 
nothing like it in history. I tell you it is a great thing, 
gen-tle-men ! ’ ’ Here he raised his right hand, and 
then lowering it ran his fingers into the dark sand, and 
drew out a number of discolored Mexican and Spanish 
dollars. “ Wis zat — what is in zat bucket, gen-tle- 
mens — and ze ouse of Topman and Gusher (me) is on a 
solid basis, as you shall see.” Here he rang a dozen 
or two of the discolored dollars on the table, adding, 
“Zis Kidd Discovery Company is one zing so great as 
you ever did see, gen-tle-men.” 

“And we are indebted to this good, honest old man 
for all of it — I should say,” rejoined Chapman, check- 
ing himself, “for selling us the secret.” Hanz had 
been smoking his pipe quietly, and seeming to take but 
little interest in what was going on. Chapman now 
slapped him on the shoulder violently, and shook his 
hand. “We are indebted to you for this great and 
successful enterprise, eh? See the fortune now, don’t 
you?” 


A NIGHT EXPEDITION. 


121 


“ Perhaps I toes, und maybe I ton’t,” replied Hanz, 
relieving his mouth of the pipe. “ I shees t’ shand, 
und I shees t’ tirty tollars — how I know where he comes 
from, eh ?” Hanz began to have his suspicion aroused, 
and to feel that he had got into queer company. “ T’ 
tollar might get back to t’ tivel when you gets him, if 
I vas only back mit mine Angeline 1” said he, shaking 
his head doubtingly. 

“ It is very generous of our friend here/' interposed 
Holbrook, running his fingers through his tufty red 
hair, and looking askance through his spectacles at 
Hanz, “to affect that he cares nothing about our dis- 
covery. Very kind of him. But we found the treasure 
exactly where he said it was buried.” 

Hanz shook his head, and looked with an air of sur- 
prise at the speaker. “ If I tells you where dat gold 
und dat tirty shilver he’s buried, und you goes dar und 
finds him, ten I he’s asleep, und ton’t know what I 
tells you.” 

“ Te gen-tle-man,” interposed Gusher, going off into 
a rhapsody of delight, “is very modest. It is very 
good of him to be so modest. But he, I am sure, will 
accept ze thanks of Topman and Gusher. Tis Kidd, 
gen-tle-men — he must be one jolly, generous fellow. I 
loves tis gen-tle-man Kidd. He bury his dollars here 
in bushel baskets full. We find him, eh?” Here he 
again ran his hand into the sand, and drawing out 
several more discolored dollars threw them on the table. 
“ Te great big Kidd Discovery Company is one great 
fixed fact — one grand success, gen-tle-men. When ze 
customer come wiz his money, we shall say here is ze 
zing what makes you one grand fortune ; invest your 
money and put. your trust in Topman and Gusher.” 


122 


THE YON TOODLEBUEGS. 


Here, indeed, was the capital stock on which the 
enterprising firm of Topman and Gusher had started a 
great and flourishing joint-stock company. The boat- 
men listened to what they had heard with surprise and 
astonishment. They, in short, firmly believed that 
what they had seen in the bucket was treasure taken 
from the place in which it had been buried by Kidd. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


MR. GUSHER IS INTRODUCED TO MATTIE. 

The Reverend Warren Holbrook was left in the farm- 
house to further develop the discovery, and lift the 
great enterprise into popularity among the confiding 
people in that portion of the country. The rest of the 
party, including Gusher, returned to the boat near sun- 
down and set off for Nyack, the sturdy oarsmen sing- 
ing a merry song. There in the bottom of the boat 
was the bucket containing the black sand and discol- 
ored dollars — the capital stock of the great Kidd Dis- 
covery Company — which Chapman and Gusher affected 
to guard with particular care. 

They reached Nyack the next day about noon, look- 
ing fatigued and careworn, for they had enjoyed but 
little sleep since leaving. During their absence all 
sorts of wild rumors had been circulated concerning the 
object of the expedition. Imagination had made some 
of its highest flights, and even found a relative of Kidd, 
who was to join the expedition a few miles up the river, 
and who possessed the power to make the devil surren- 
der sounding-rock — in case he proved obstinate and 
refused to acknowledge Hanz’s authority. Titus 
Bright's inn was the place where all the wisdom of the 
settlement concentrated of a night. And it was here 
that all the various features of the great expedition 
were discussed over ale and cider. Sundry honest 
Dutchmen shook their heads suspiciously, and declared 
no good would come of it if Chapman got his finger in. 
Others said it was all clear enough now where Hanz 

123 


124 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


Toodleburg got liis dollars and his doubloons. It was 
no wonder that he was so much better off than his 
neighbors. Another declared that he had more than 
once told Hanz he would never get to heaven, and that 
secret on his mind. 

When the boat reached the landing a number of per- 
sons were gathered there, all anxious to know what 
success had attended the expedition, and what discove- 
ries had been made concerning Kidd's money. News 
that the expedition had returned soon spread over 
Nyack, and the town was greatly agitated. The 
arrival of Gusher, a gentleman of such distinguished 
personal appearance, tended still further to increase the 
agitation, and to give wing to wilder rumors. Hanz 
was received with salutations of welcome, for every one 
seemed glad to see him back. But where this foreign- 
looking gentleman came from, and what was his history, 
were questions they confounded their wits over without 
finding a satisfactory solution. 

Considerable ado was now made in getting the bucket 
and its contents on shore, which was done with as much 
care and ceremony as if every grain of black sand it 
contained had been gold. And when a number of the 
coins had been exhibited to the bystanders, and the 
genuineness of the metal they were made of shown to 
be beyond doubt, the boatmen ran a pole through the 
handle and carried it on their shoulders up the road, 
creating such a sensation in turn that they were followed 
by a curious and astonished crowd, which seemed to 
increase at every step. 

The effect was exactly what Chapman wanted. He 
had the precious treasure carried to his house and de- 
posited, while Hanz and the boatmen proceeded to their 
homes, stopping at Bright's inn on the way, where they 


MR. GUSHER IS INTRODUCED TO MATTIE. 


125 


gave a marvellous account of their expedition and what 
they had discovered. 

The portly figure of Mrs. Chapman, arrayed in her 
best millinery, stood in the door ready to welcome her 
dear husband and Mr. Gusher, who had proceeded in 
advance of the crowd. 

“ Allow me to welcome you to my house — such as it 
is, Mr. Gusher,” said she, making a low courtesy, and 
then extending her fat, waxy hand. Mr. Gusher bowed 
in return, and received the hand formally. 

“ Madam, I am so very happy to have ze pleazure 
to zee you in your own house,” replied Mr. Gusher, 
raising his hand to his heart, then lifting his hat and 
making another formal bow. 

“ I am sure you will forego all ceremony, Mr. Gusher, 
and make yourself at home. We are plain, unpretend- 
ing people, and like to receive our friends in a plain, 
unpretending manner,” resumed Mrs. Chapman, escort- 
ing her guest into the parlor, and begging him to be 
seated. “It seems so very long since we met in New 
York, Mr. Gusher. I never shall forget that visit, 
made so pleasant by your kindness. I have spoken of 
you so often, Mr. Gusher, to my daughter, that we 
both feel as if we were well acquainted with you ” 

“ Madam,” interrupted Mr. Gusher, again putting 
his hand to his heart and making a formal bow, “you 
do me so many compliments as I don’t deserve. I have 
anticipated ze pleazure and ze honor so much to zee 
your daughter. I am zure I shall be delight wiz her. 
If I shall speak Englis so well as you, then I shall be 
so happy. Then I makes myself agreeable to your 
daughter, I am so sure.” Mr. Gusher was indeed quite 
embarrassed at the number of compliments Mrs. Chap- 
man seemed inclined to bestow on him. 


126 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


“Nyack is so dull and stupid — so very dull, Mr. 
Gusher. We only endure it, you know. And there 
are so few nice people in it — so very few we care about 
associating with,” resumed this fat, fussy woman, giv- 
ing her head a toss and extending her hands. “A few, 
a very few nice people have come up from the city — we 
find them very agreeable society, quite a relief. We 
intend to set up a residence in the city. How delight- 
ful to look forward to the day. We can then live in a 
style more agreeable to our taste.” 

“Oh! madam,” rejoined Mr. Gusher, “I am sure you 
must be very happy. Your house is so very elegant. 
I should be so happy in zis house. (Pardon, madam, 
I cannot speak Englis so well.) And zen, wiz your 
beautiful daughter.” Mr. Gusher placed his hand to 
his heart again, bowed his head gracefully, and assumed 
a sentimental air. “Oh, I shall be so happy to have 
my home like zis. And your beautiful daughter — she 
would sing to me, and she would play me sweet music, 
and read to me some poetry. You shall zee I am so 
proud of ze poetry ” 

“How very kind of you,” interrupted Mrs. Chap- 
man, bowing condescendi ngly ; ‘ ‘ how very kind of you, 
to pay my daughter this high compliment. And, then, 
coming from so distinguished a foreigner. Indeed, Mr. 
Gusher, I have had a mother's responsibility in edu- 
cating my daughter up to the highest requisitions of 
society. Then she’s only a young, thoughtless girl 
yet, you know. Indeed, Mr. Gusher, if it was not that 
she is so intellectual — I say this out of respect to her 

father, whose intellectual qualities she inherits I 

should feel alarmed about her. Indeed I should. She 
is so much admired. And there is nothing spoils a 
young, ardent girl so much as admiration.” 


MR. GUSHER IS INTRODUCED TO MATTIE. 127 

Chapman now entered the room and suggested that 
Mr. Gusher, their guest, must he very much fatigued 
after so arduous an expedition. Mr. Gusher was there- 
upon shown to his room, and left to his own contempla- 
tions. In truth, he was glad enough to escape in this 
way from a continuation of this fussy woman’s compli- 
ments. He had, however, created in his mind a beau- 
tiful picture of Mattie, with oval face, fair complexion, 
soft blue eyes, flowing golden hair, and a form that 
Diana might have envied, and a voice so sweet in song. 
As to her parents, they knew nothing of him, (perhaps 
it was well they did not) ; and he knew nothing of them. 
There was a mystery overhanging the means by which 
he had been brought in contact with these peculiar peo- 
ple. But the more he revolved the beautiful picture oi 
Mattie over in his mind the more his anxiety to see her 
increased. 

Mr. Gusher rested for two hours, and then re-appeared 
in the parlor, so exquisitely dressed and made up. 
Every hair on his head seemed to have been curled so 
exactly. The gentleman had evidently taken great 
pains to get himself up in a style that should be fault- 
less. I may mention, also, that Mr. Gusher regarded 
himself as a very valuable ornament in the atmosphere 
of fashionable society— just such a nice young man as 
an ambitious woman just setting up in society would 
require at least a dozen of to make her first reception a 
success. 

Mrs. Chapman and Mattie were already in the parlor, 
waiting to receive Mr. Gusher. “ My dear sir!” ex- 
claimed Mrs. Chapman; “you are looking so much 
improved. I hope you are rested? And now, sir, allow 
me to present you to my daughter — Miss Mattie, my 
only daughter. This is Mr. Gusher, my daughter. 


128 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


Yon have heard me speak of Mr. Gusher so often / 7 
Mattie blushed and looked confused, then courtesied in 
a cold and formal manner. 

“I am so glad to make you my compliments/’ said 
Mr. Gusher, making one of his best hows, and moving 
backward with a shuffling motion. “ I am so glad to 
make you my friend,” he continued, bowing and plac- 
ing his right hand on his heart. Mattie’s beauty was 
quite up to the picture Mr. Gusher had drawn of it in 
his imagination. But her manner was so cold and 
formal that it not only disappointed but annoyed him. 
Instead of an ardent, impressible, romantic, and even 
demonstrative girl, bubbling over with warmth and 
vivacity, here she was, as cold and formal as a charity 
school matron of forty summers. 

“I hope, sir, that you will find your visit to Nyack 
pleasant,” she replied, tossing her long, golden curls 
bewitcliingly over her fair, full shoulders with her 
right hand, then motioning Mr. Gusher to be seated, 
“ Nyack is a very dull place, though. I am sure you 
will not find much in it to interest you. My mother 
tells me you are to make hut a very short stay. I don’t 
wonder you are anxious to get back, sir ” 

Mrs. Chapman was at this time in a state of great 
alarm lest Mattie should say something not strictly 
within the rules of propriety. She shook her head 
and cast a significant glance at Mattie, then raised 
the fore-finger of her right hand to her lips, admonish- 
ingly. 

“ My daughter has not heard of the great enterprise 
yourself and my dear husband are engaged in ” 

“Why, yes, mother, I have,” interrupted Mattie; 
“did’nt Mr. Toodlehurg and father go up the river to 
buy up all the vegetables for the New York market?” 


MR. GUSHER IS INTRODUCED TO MATTIE. 129 

“Oh, horrors! horrors! Why, my daughter, what 
put such a strange thought in your head? Think of 
it. Your intellectual father going into the vegetable 
business — and with a common old Dutchman ! Oh, 
horrors, my daughter ! What could have put such a 
thought in your head?” The fat, fussy woman affected 
to be overcome, and raised her hands in the very agony 
of distress. 

“ My daughter, Mr. Gusher, has a way of talking so 
at times. A little satirical, you know — inherits it from 
her father.” 

“My mother has spoken of you frequently, Mr. 
Gusher. I almost felt acquainted with you before you 
arrived. You do business in the city, she says. The 
weather is so very bad, I am sure you will not enjoy 
such a dull place as this,” said Mattie, turning to 
Mr. Gusher and resuming the conversation, cold and 
emotionless. 

“No, no, miss,” rejoined Mr. Gusher, smiling; “I 
am zure I shall be so happy wiz you. Wiz you to zay 
so many good zings to me, my heart shall be in ze par- 
adise.’ ’ Here Mr. Gusher made a bow, and pressed his 
hand to his heart. “Wiz you for ze bird of zat para- 
dise, oh, I shall be so happy.” 

“ Then you and father are going into business, Mr. 
Gusher? I do hope you will be successful. If you can 
only get father to stick to business,” resumed Mattie. 
“He is smart at inventing new religions, and other 
things. Mother, (here she turned to her mother, who 
was in a state of great alarm,) how many new religions 
has father invented ? I know how many churches he 
has built ” 

“ My daughter, my daughter !” exclaimed the impa- 
tient and perplexed woman. “ Such things as churches 
9 


130 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


don't interest Mr. Gusher. Mr. Gusher moves in dis- 
tinguished society, and goes to a fashionable church." 

“Oh, yes, madam, I go to ze very fazionable church. 
I go to zee ze ladies, and to enjoy ze sentiment of ze 
music. Zen I shall enjoy myself wiz your daughter 
more as well in your house. I shall do zat. Your 
daughter, she shall zing to me, and she shall play to 
me, and she shall read to me some poetry. I am so 
much love ze poetry." 

“Truly, Mr. Gusher, I should make but very poor 
work in entertaining you by singing or playing," re- 
plied Mattie ; “and as for poetry, I never had any taste 
for it. Father made me read Pilgrim's Progress until 
it has got to he a favorite hook with me. Did you ever 
read it, Mr. Gusher? It is very interesting." 

“Nevare, nevare!" returned Mr. Gusher, shaking 
his head and extending his hands. “ I nevare read ze 
hook of ze Progress Pilgrim. I read ze hook what de- 
scribe to me ze paradise of ze heart — love." How very 
aggravating, thought Mr. Gusher. Instead of a girl 
with a whole volume of poetry in her soft blue eyes, 
here was one whose very nature seemed devoid of senti- 
ment. Still there was something in this cold and re- 
serve manner, this indifference to Mr. Gusher’s attrac- 
tions, that tended to excite his ambition, for he was 
excessively vain. 

“ Your dear mother say I go to ze fazionable church. 
Yes, I go to ze fazionable church. I zee so many nice 
ladies, so many beautiful ladies, all my friends ; and 
za make me so many compliments. Oh, yes, Miss 
Chapman, I have so many beautiful young ladies for 
my friend in ze church." 

“ I don't see how it can be otherwise, Mr. Gusher," 
returned Mattie, bestowing a look of admiration on 


MR. GUSHER IS INTRODUCED TO MATTIE. 131 

him. “I am sure you would have a great many ad- 
mirers if you lived in Nyack. But, then, you would 
not think of living in such a dull place." 

u You do me so much honor, miss," rejoined 
Mr. Gusher, rising and making a how. “ I hope it 
shall be my honor to count Miss Chapman — what 
shall I say? — well, I will say as one of my so good 
friends." 

“ Indeed, Mr. Gusher, I have no such ambition. 
You have so many beautiful friends now. You would 
not, I am sure, condescend to include a simple country 
girl like me among them. I assure you, Mr. Gusher, I 
am not ambitious." 

“ You will have discovered by this time," said Mrs. 
Chapman, rising and making a low courtesy, “that 
my daughter delights in being eccentric. Oh, sir, she 
says a great many things she never means. She has 
got ambition enough. She would' nt be a Chapman if 
she had’nt." 

Dinner was now announced. “I shall be so happy 
to escort you," said Mr. Gusher, nearly doubling him- 
self in a bow, and extending his arm. 

Mattie hesitated for a moment, blushed, and seemed 
confused. “Please, Mr. Gusher," she said, bowing 
and extending her right hand, “escort my dear mother." 
Here was an awkward situation. Mr. Gusher's knowl- 
edge of etiquette was for once put on trial by a plain, 
simple-hearted country girl. But his offer was intended 
only as a compliment, and surely, he thought, the girl 
would accept it in that light. 

Turning nervously to Mrs. Chapman he extended his 
arm, saying: “Pardon, madam, pardon. You will 
understand ?" 


132 


THE VON TOODLEBXJRGS. 


“Oh, certainly, Mr. Gusher/’ returned the ponder- 
ous woman. “ You are so very kind — so very kind, 
Mr. Gusher.” 

Never before had Mr. Gusher escorted a woman of 
such ponderous circumference. Mattie followed, her 
roguish smiles indicating that she enjoyed what she 
considered a joke played at Mr. Gusher’s expense. The 
picture presented by the meeting of such extremes was 
indeed a ludicrous one. 

I will not weary the reader with a description of or 
explain a family dinner such as that generally spread 
by the Chapmans, nor with the many apologies made 
by Mrs. Chapman that they had not something better 
to set before so distinguished a guest as Mr. Philo 
Gusher. Chapman was already seated at the table, 
busy with a huge fork and carving-knife. 

“ We don’t stand on ceremony here,” said he. “Our 
visitors are always welcome, and expected to make 
themselves at home. (Pointing with the carving-knife 
to opposite sides of the table.) Take seats, take seats, 
now,” he concluded. 

Mrs. Chapman made a motion to seat Mattie on Mr. 
Gusher’s left, an honor she did not seem to appreciate, 
for she insisted on taking a seat opposite — her proper 
place. 

"When dinner was over Mr. Gusher escorted Mattie 
back into the parlor. “ You shall understand me 
better, miz. I am sure you shall, as we get better 
acquainted. And now you shall zing to me, and play 
me some music,” said he, opening the piano and 
arranging the stool and music. “ You will zee I shall 
make myself agreeable,” he repeated two or three 
times, then extending his hand. But instead of accept- 
ing it Mattie returned a cold, formal bow, and proceeded 
to the piano unaided. 


MR. GUSIIER IS INTRODUCED TO MATTIE. 133 

tc The truth is, Mr. Guslier, ” said Mattie, running 
her fingers up and down the keys, and looking up archly 
in Mr. Gusher’s face, “I am only taking lessons, and 
can’t play or sing so as to interest you.” 

“ Excuse, miz. You want I pay you ze compliment. 
Well, I shall dozat when I hear ze music.” 

The fair girl now tossed her golden curls hack over 
her shoulders, and began singing one of the most sol- 
emn and melancholy of pieces, to her own accompani- 
ment. Her voice was indeed full of sweetness, and she 
could sing with some skill and effect ; hut she was just 
at this time more inclined to play on Mr. Gusher’s 
feelings than to do justice to her musical talent. 

“ There’s something sweet and touching in this 
melancholy music. I like it, Mr. Gusher,” she said, 
pausing and looking up in his face tantalizingly ; 
“ don’t you?” 

Mr. Gusher shook his head disapprovingly, and 
shrugged his shoulders. “No, no, miz ; I nevare like 
ze funeral music. I go to ze funeral of my friend wiz 
music like zat.” 

“I am very sorry to hear you say so, Mr. Gusher. 
I play it whenever mother will let me. And I enjoy 
it so much. Reminds me of a dear young friend now 
far away.” 

“Now, miz, I makes my discovery,” returned Mr. 
Gusher, turning over a leaf of the music, and looking 
enquiringly into Mattie’s face. “ Zat young friend, so 
far away, wiz his memory so near ze heart. Well, I 
shall think no more of zat. You shall zee I shall make 
my compliments, and shall cut out zat one young friend 
what is so far away. You shall zing me some grand 
music, so full of ze love, and ze poetry, so as my heart 
shall lift up wiz joy.” Here Mr. Gusher flourished his 


134 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


hands and executed several waltzing steps, as an ex- 
pression of how his feelings were excited by music. 

Mattie turned suddenly around to witness this pecu- 
liar exhibition, when Tite’s letter fell from her bosom 
to the floor. 

“ Ze revelation ! Ze re-ve-la — what shall I say? If 
I only speak ze Englis so good as you, now !” exclaimed 
Gusher, affecting a loud laugh. And stooping down 
quickly, he attempted to seize the missive. Mattie 
was too quick for him. Regaining possession of it she 
restored it carefully to her bosom, an expression of joy 
and triumph lighting up her countenance. 

Disappointment now took possession of Mr. Gusher’s 
feelings. His manner indicated what his heart felt. 
Never before had his expectations and his ambition 
been so lowered, or his vanity so exposed. He had 
expected to find a beautiful, simple-minded country 
girl, ready with hand and heart to become a willing 
captive to his charms. And yet he had failed to make 
the slightest impression on her. Nor was that all. 
Her heart and her thoughts were evidently engaged in 
another direction. What, he enquired of himself, could 
her mother have meant by the encouragement she gave 
him to visit her home and see her daughter? His curi- 
osity to find out who it was that held such possession 
of this beautiful girl’s affections was now excited to the 
highest pitch. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


ROUNDING CAPE HORN. 

Mr. Gusher, with his pride wounded, and a heavy 
heart, took leave of the Chapmans early on the follow- 
ing morning, and crossed the ferry on his way hack to 
New York. The black bucket containing the capital 
stock of the great Kidd Discovery Company, in which 
his fancy pictured a dozen or more fortunes, and which 
he bore with him, afforded no relief for his disappoint- 
ment. It might be the means of his owning a fine 
house, riding in his own carriage, and being considered 
a rich man by society. But, after all, riches only em- 
bodied the hard features of dollars and cents. Who 
could find romance in the pursuit of dollars and cents? 
he thought. You could carry fame into the grave with 
you. Dollars and cents might buy you a fine coffin, 
and bring rich friends to your funeral ; but they left 
you at the tomb door. 

Had Mr. Gusher gone back to New York in the belief 
that he had made an impression on the affections of 
that pretty, simple-hearted country girl, Mattie Chap- 
man, what a happy man he would have been. He 
resolved, however, not to be vanquished in this way — 
not to give it up — but to continue his attentions, and if 
possible gain a victory over her affections. 

And now, gentle reader, you must accompany me to 
a very different part of the globe, and see what is going 
on there. 

The ship Pacific had been refitted and put in sailing 
order at Bahia, and was now on her course for the 

135 


136 


THE VON TOODLEBUHGS. 


Straits of Magellan. On reaching the latitude of the 
straits strong adverse winds set in, and gale succeeded 
gale until the sea became lashed into a tempest. The 
weather, too, was biting cold, and the crew suffered 
intensely. Not a gleam of sun had been seen for three 
weeks, and the ship's progress had to be worked by 
dead reckoning. 

Morning after morning the sturdy old captain would 
come on deck, thrust his hands deep into the pockets of 
his pea-jacket, and look intently ever the wild watery 
scene. Then he would shake his head despondingly. 
“ Never caught it this way afore," he would say, ad- 
dressing the officer of the watch. “ Never caught it 
this way afore. Somebody's brought bad luck aboard, 
or we should' nt have such weather as this." Then he 
would disappear into the cabin and ponder over his 
chart, trying to work out the ship's position. But a 
strong current and the high wind, both setting in one 
direction, had carried him far beyond his reckoning, 
and into the vicinity of the Faulkland Islands. 

All the light spars had been sent down, and for fif- 
teen days the ship had labored in the sea under close- 
reefed topsails and jib, trying to make weather, but 
without gaining a mile. 

On the sixteenth day the weather cleared up a little 
and the sun came out, and an observation was got, 
which showed that the ship had been carried into the 
vicinity before described. For once the sturdy old 
whale-killer had got drifted away from his course. But 
he declared it was all owing to the sea getting tipsy, 
the compasses getting tipsy, the chronometers getting 
tipsy, and the sun keeping himself rolled up in a 
blanket. You could' nt, he said, get a ship to look the 
wind in the eye when all the elements were tipsy. He 


ROUNDING CAPE HORN. 


137 


was a lucky mariner who could get round Cape Horn 
without being tossed off his feet for a month — every- 
thing seemed to stagger so. 

The wind now changed suddenly and blew as fiercely 
from the opposite direction, and the cold increased. 
The ship was at once got on her course for the straits, 
her reefs were shook out, and she howled over the sea 
at the rate of nine knots. Still the sky continued black 
and cloudy, and the horizon misty and dim. The sea 
ran high, and broke and surged, filling the air with a 
cold, cutting spray, while the ship labored and strained 
in every timber. 

Have you, my gentle reader, ever seen the broad 
ocean in an angry mood on a cold, pitiless winter day, 
when the horizon was hung with cold, penetrating 
mist, when all overhead was black with fleeting clouds, 
when the seas broke in their fury and threatened to 
destroy the frail hark under your feet, and when rain, 
hail, and snow alternately swept through the atmos- 
phere, like showers of keen-pointed arrows — have you, 
I say, ever contemplated this sublime and impressive 
scene without acknowledging within yourself how om- 
nipotent was God, and how feeble and insignificant a 
thing was man? 

There is, perhaps, no other place in the world where 
Nature so combines all her elements to give an emphatic 
expression to the power and reality of the Divinity, as 
in the vicinity of this famous old Cape. 

The bold, rugged headlands of Patagonia were 
sighted on the morning of the 4tli of December. The 
wind had subsided a little, but a strong current was 
setting through the straits, and short, sharp seas, such 
as are experienced in the Bay of Fundy, indicated the 
ship's position as clearly as if a good observation had 


138 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


been got. Snow and ice nearly covered the ship, and 
the men continued to suffer from the cold. There was 
a feeling of encouragement now that the ship would 
round the Cape without any further trouble. But 
before noon a violent snow storm set in, and the bold, 
bleak hills of Patagonia disappeared from sight. The 
wind, too, veered ahead again and increased, and the 
ship had to be headed for the coast of Terra del Fuego, 
on the other tack. 

Early on the following morning the look-out’s atten- 
tion was attracted by large spots of white light — now 
opening, now shutting — high up in the heavens ahead. 
It was Tite’s watch on deck, and the look-out pointed 
him to the curious phenomena, which had not before 
attracted his attention. At the same time a painful 
and piercing chill seemed to pervade the atmosphere, 
and to seriously affect the feelings of the men on deck. 

Tite watched these curious phenomena for several 
minutes, without comprehending what they meant. He 
thereupon called the captain, who came quickly on deck. 
As soon as his eye caught the gleam of light, he walked 
aft to the binnacle, and stood watching the compasses 
for a minute or two. 

“ There’s trouble ahead,” he said. “Call Mr. Hig- 
gins, and all hands — call them quickly. We are close 
upon an iceberg.” 

The first officer and all hands were quickly on deck, 
ready to obey orders. Every eye on board was now 
watching in the direction of the light. 

“It’s an iceberg, and a big one, too, Mr. Higgins. 
If she strikes it, there’s an end of us!” said Captain 
Bottom, addressing the first officer, who seemed indif- 
ferent to the danger that threatened the ship. A rust- 
ling noise, as of strong tide-rips breaking ahead, was 


ROUNDING CAPE HORN. 


139 


heard, the sound increasing every minute. The braces 
were now manned, the order to “go about” given, and 
the helm put down. But the ship had hardly begun to 
gather headway on the other tack, when she refused to 
obey her helm. It seemed, indeed, as if she was under 
the influence of a powerful attraction, drawing her to 
destruction. 

Another minute and she struck with a deep, crashing 
sound, that made every timber in her frame vibrate, so 
great was the shock. A gleam of grey light now began 
to spread over the fearful scene. It was daylight, that 
friend which so often comes to the mariner’s relief. 
The ship had struck broad on, and the berg seemed to 
have grasped her in its arms of death and refused to 
let her go. Each succeeding sea lifted the helpless 
ship, and then tossed her with increasing violence 
against the jagged ice-cliff. And as her yards raked 
the boulders, huge blocks fell with crushing force on her 
deck. Stanchions were started, the bulwarks crushed 
away from the knight-heads to the quarter-deck, on the 
port side, and the deck stove in several places. It 
seemed as if there was but a minute between those on 
board and death. Still the staunch old ship forged 
ahead, lifting and surging with every sea, and seeming 
to struggle to free herself from the grasp of the berg. 
All hope of saving the ship seemed gone now. Both 
officers and men waited in suspense, expecting, every 
lurch the ship made, to see her go to pieces. 

It was one of those moments when presence of mind 
and seamanship seem of no avail to save a ship. On 
sounding the pumps it was found that the ship’s hull 
was still tight, and that she had made but little water. 
Still she forged ahead, and great blocks of ice continued 
to fall on her deck. 


140 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


When all eyes were turned towards the captain, and 
each waited with breathless anxiety, in the hope that 
he would give some order that would at least be a relief 
to their feelings, even though it were folly to execute 
it, Tite mounted the fore-rigging to the top-mast trees, 
the surging ship threatening to dash him against the 
ice wall every minute. In that fearful position he 
remained for several minutes, scanning over the scene 
ahead, and hoping for some gleam of hope. 

There was still a hope of saving the ship. He waved 
a signal of encouragement to those below, and quickly 
descended to the deck. About half or three-quarters 
of a mile ahead there was a point indicating the termi- 
nation of the berg. If the ship could be kept forging 
ahead she might possibly round the point and clear the 
berg in safety. 

Tite communicated to the captain what he had seen, 
and his belief that the ship could be saved. All hands 
now went to work cheerfully, clearing the deck forward 
of the ice that had accumulated there. Then the fore- 
top-sail was clewed up, the spanker set, the yards 
braced up sharp, and the ship continued forging ahead 
with increased motion. Every yard of distance gained 
was measured with a watchful eye, and increased the 
confidence of those on board. 

u We shall save her yet, captain,” said Tite, a smile 
of satisfaction playing over his face. “ We won’t give 
up the good old ship !” 

“ God bless you, my hearty, God bless you !” returned 
the old captain, grasping Tite’s hand warmly. “It’s 
you shall have the credit of it if she weathers the point. 
Yes, sir, you. Killin’ a whale is killin’ a whale. Gives 
a sailor fair play in a square fight. But this being run 
down by an iceberg, and ship and all hands crushed to 


HOUNDING CAPE HORN. 


141 


powder, gives a sailor no chance to show what there is 
in him. When a man gets killed according to his 
liking, why, then he’s satisfied. But there’s no way 
you could get satisfaction in being killed by an iceberg. 
It was’nt my own life I was thinking about, Mr. Too- 
dlebug. Not a bit of it.” Here he again grasped 
Tito firmly by the hand, and lowered his voice to a 
whisper. “It was my good old woman, sir, and the 
two little ones. Heaven bless them and keep them 
from harm!” 

The ship still made fearful surges, and the ice grated 
and cut her planking ; but she neared the point gradu- 
ally, and this brought a feeling of relief to all on board. 
Open water beyond, and the hold, sharp lines of the 
point, made it almost certain that the berg terminated 
there. The point was reached at last. The ship 
seemed to give a leap ahead, and, as if by mutual con- 
sent, payed off and parted from the icy grasp of the 
monster. Cheer after cheer went up as the old ship, 
in her distressed condition, swung away and was out of 
danger. 

The ship was now headed for Puntas Arenas, where 
many years ago the Spaniards founded a penal settle- 
ment. Intermarrying has, however, reduced the people 
to mere dwarfs in stature ; and they have so retro- 
graded in civilization that they are the greatest thieves 
and the worst savages to be found along the coast. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


MAKING A FORTUNE. 

Kidd Company stock was a feature in Wall street. 
The firm of Topman and Gusher, having luminated the 
great Kidd Discovery Company, had got it fairly on its 
feet in that mart of the money-changers. The firm 
was considered highly respectable now, and had count- 
ing-rooms in Pearl street, near Wall, second floor, 
furnished in a style of elegance it would be difficult to 
surpass, even at this day. If you would fortify the 
standing of a great and enterprising firm, Topman said, 
in his polite way, you must do it with elegant and 
elaborate furniture in your counting-room. Show is 
the thing two- thirds of the people in the world are 
attracted and deluded by. 

The newspapers, too, were telling curious stories as 
to how Kidd's treasure was discovered, and also making 
statements of a very unreliable nature, setting forth 
that already several million dollars had been recovered, 
and that any man engaged in it would surely make a 
fortune for his heirs, no matter how numerous. The 
more unreasonable these statements were, the more 
readily did people invest in the stock. Not a solid man 
in Wall street had heard of the firm of Topman and 
Gusher eight months ago. The great beacon lights of 
the street now condescended to bow and shake hands 
with Topman, to take more than a glance at the firm's 
name when it was brought to their notice on certain 
bits of paper which the enterprising firm, for mere con- 
venience sake, gave now and then as “ equivalents/’ 


MAKING A FORTUNE. 


143 


In short, Mr. Topman was a man of such impressive 
manners that he quite captivated Wall street, and to 
have those solid-pocketed old gentlemen speak encour- 
agingly of the house, was, he considered, gaining a 
great financial victory. In addition to this Topman 
lived in a fine house, sumptuously furnished, on the 
west side of Bowling Green, had a servant in livery to 
open the door, and rode in his own carriage. 

Mrs. Topman was a showy, dashing woman of thirty- 
five, or thereabouts, tall and slender, and somewhat 
graceful of figure, and might have passed for a beauty 
at twenty. But there was a faded look about her now, 
and she had a weakness for loud talking and over- 
dressing. She was evidently a woman of doubtful 
blood, and “ no family/’ as society would say in these 
days. Indeed, first-rate society, such as Bowling Green 
boasted of in those days, considered itself very select, 
and dealt out its favors to new-comers with a cautious 
reserve. 

As little or nothing was known of Mrs. Topman’ s 
antecedents, first-rate society cut her — did’nt even con-, 
descend to drop her a sidewalk recognition. But, as 
pushing one’s self into society was quite as much prac- 
tised then as now, and as Mrs. Topman was a pushing, 
vigorous woman, she resolved that if she could not 
carry the outworks and compel a surrender on the 
part of first-rate society, she would at least have a circle 
of her own. And she had just as good a right, she 
said, to call her circle of society first-rate, as her neigh- 
bors who kept their doors shut had to “consider” 
themselves such. It was only an assumption at best. 
So the aspiring lady received what she called select 
company on a Tuesday, and entertained generally on 
Thursday evenings. But her neighbors tossed their 


THE VON TOODM3URGS. 


144 

heads, and said they were only third-rate people who 
went there. 

Gusher, however, flourished in what might at this 
day he considered elegant hotel society. He was such 
a nice young man, dressed in such good taste, and had 
such unexceptionable manners. And there was such 
a distinguished air about Gusher, that Bowling Green 
was half inclined to look on him with favor. Mr. Gusher 
was a stock beau as well as a stock boarder at the City 
Hotel, where he was an object of admiration with all 
the languishing young ladies of the house. Indeed, 
the landlord of the City Hotel regarded Mr. Gusher as 
a valuable parlor ornament for the entertainment of his 
female guests of an evening, for he was an exquisite j 
dancer, could sing, and make such gracious bows. Nowi 
and then a sensible girl had been heard to say she 
thought him a little soft ; but her companions usually 
set that down to envy. Then it got whispered about 
that he was an unfortunate foreigner of a very distin- 
guished family, and had been exiled from his native 
•Spain for engaging in a revolution. Such were the 
prospects of this distinguished firm, socially and finan- 
cially. 

Nyack, too, had been kept in a state of agitation all 
winter over the discovery of Kidd’s treasure, and won- 
derful stories were circulated of the fabulous amounts 
that were recovered every day. 

Spring had come again, and the hills around Nyack 
looked so fresh, and green, and beautiful. Chapman 
had got Kidd stock into high favor with all the honest 
old Dutchmen in the county. And it was curious to 
see how these heretofore cautious people parted with 
their money for what Chapman called a “ profitable 
equivalent.” 


MAKING A FORTUNE. 


145 


Mrs. Chapman seemed to have increased in circum- 
ference and loftiness. She could get new and expensive 
dresses, and silk ones at that, every time she went to 
New York, and she went quite often now. And none 
of her neighbors could wear such fine lace on their caps. 
It was surprising to see how this fat, fussy woman could 
toss her head and talk of common people now. It was 
very annoying:, she said, to have to live in a little coun- 
try town like Nyack, and mix with everybody. Then 
her dear little intellectually great Chapman was such a 
jewel of a husband, and was so clever at inventing the 
means of making a fortune for other people. 

The brain of Nyack was terribly disordered over the 
fortunes that were to be made in a month for all who 
invested in Kidd Discovery stock. Even the good 
Dominie, led away by the temptation, had invested all 
his savings, and had his pockets full of Chapman's 
“ equivalents," from which he looked for a fortune in a 
very short time. Finally the innocent settlers began 
to regard Chapman as a great genius, who had invented 
this new way of making their fortunes out of sheer 
goodness. “I want to tell you, my good friends," he 
would say to them, patronizingly, “ you will appreciate 
me better as we become better acquainted. Invest your 
money, and there's a fortune for you all." And they 
took his word, and invested their money, and, many of 
them, everything they had. 

We must go back into the city now. It was a morn- 
ing in early May. Knots of men were standing on the 
corners of Wall and Pearl streets, each discussing in 
animated tones some question of finance or trade. Men 
with hurried steps and curious faces passed to and fro, 
threading their way through the pressing throng, as if 
the nation was in peril and they were on a mission to 


146 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


save it. And yet it was only an expression of that 
eagerness which our people display in their haste to 
despatch some object in the ordinary business routine 
of the day. 

It was on this morning that a woman of 'Small and 
compact figure, dressed in plain green silk, a red India 
shawl, and a large, odd-shaped straw bonnet, called a 
“ poke” in those days, on her head, and trimmed inside 
with a profusion of artificial flowers, the whole giving 
her an air of extreme quaintness, was seen looking up 
doubtingly at the door opening to the stairs at the top 
of which Topman and Gusher had their counting-rooms. 
She had the appearance of a woman in good circum- 
stances, just from the country, where her style of dress 
might have been in fashion at that day. Her age, 
perhaps, was in the vicinity of forty, for her hair was 
changing to grey, and hung in neat braids down the 
sides of her face, which was round and ruddy, and still 
gleamed with the freshness of youth. Her shawl-pin 
was a heavy gold anchor and chain, and her wrists were 
clasped with heavy gold bracelets, bearing a shield, on 
which was inscribed a sailor with his quadrant poised, 
in the act of taking the sun. I ought also to add that 
she carried a big umbrella in her left hand, and a small 
leathern satchel in her right. 

This quaint little woman’s manner was exceedingly 
nervous and hesitating. Twice or thrice she advanced 
up the passage to the foot of the stairs, hesitated, re- 
turned to the door, and looked up at the number, as if 
still uncertain about some project on trial in her mind. 

Men were passing in and out, and up and down the 
stairs hurriedly, as if some important business required 
all their attention. The little woman took no heed of 
any of them, and indeed seemed confused in her own 


MAKING A FORTUNE. 


147 


thoughts. Drawing a newspaper from her leathern hag 
she read in a whisper, at the same time tracing the 
lines with her finger, “ Great Kidd Discovery Com- 
pany. Capital §150,000. All paid in. President, 
Luke Topman. Corresponding Secretary, Philo Gusher. 
No. — Pearl street/' The little woman nodded her 
head, and looked up with an air of satisfaction. “I’m 
right. This is the place," she muttered to herself. 
Then putting the paper carefully into her pocket, and 
hugging the big umbrella close to her side, she advanced 
with a more resolute step up the passage, and was soon 
at the top of the stairs. 

Again the little woman paused, for the number of 
names over doors seemed to confuse her. Just across 
the passage in front of her, however, she read over a 
half-glass door, and in large gilt letters, “ Topman and 
Gusher, General Commission Business." And just 
below, and across the panes of ground glass, were the 
significant and attractive words: “ Kidd Discovery 
Company. Capital $150,000. Luke Topman, Presi- 
dent. Philo Gusher, Corresponding Secretary." 

The little woman advanced and knocked timidly at 
the door, which was opened by a nicely-clad and polite 
youth, whose business seemed to be to admit customers. 
The little woman bowed and returned the young man's 
salutation. 

“A lady visitor, Mr. Gusher !" said the young man, 
motioning the lady to enter. “That is Mr. Gusher, 
madam ; junior partner of the firm." 

A polished mahogany railing separated the vulgar 
customer from the highly dignified looking clerks inside. 
Indeed, there was an air of elegance about the estab- 
lishment that somewhat surprised the little woman at 
first, and caused her some embarrassment. 


148 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


“ Ah, madam ; pardon! pardon !" said Mr. Gusher, 
rising from his desk at the announcement and advanc- 
ing to the railing. “ I shall do myself ze pleazure, and 
ze honor of receiving such commands as you shall con- 
fide to ze firm,” he continued, smiling and howing 
gracefully. ✓ 

“A little investment/' returned the visitor, nervously. 
“ I have a little money, left by my husband, who is at 
sea. I have no immediate use for it ; but want to put 
it where it will he entirely safe. Entirely safe, above 
all things ; a good dividend will not he objectionable. 
I am sure, sir, you understand that " 

“ Ah, madam, you shall zee. Pardon ! you will enter 
and take one seat." Mr. Gusher now condescended to 
open the gate, as he called it, bring the little woman 
inside, and hid her he seated. “ Ze Kidd Discovery 
Company, madam, is one grand enterprise. You shall 
zee. And ze profit shall he so great you will not know 
where to put him. For ze safety of ze investment, 
(pardon, madam,) you shall accept ze honor of zis firm. 
0, madam, I cannot speak ze Englis so well. If my 
partner is here you shall zee he will satisfy you as ze 
reputation and ze honor of zis firm will he so great. 
You shall invest your money, and you shall zee zat ze 
honor and ze reputation of zis firm shall makes him 
safe." Mr. Gusher made a low how, and pressed 
his hand to his heart in confirmation of what he had 
said. 

A number of suspicious-looking men now entered the 
office and advanced to the railing, all affecting great 
eagerness to purchase and pay their money for Kidd 
Discovery stock. “ You shall zee, mad-am," said Mr. 
Gusher, extending his right hand and shrugging his 
shoulders,, “how much ze demand for ze stock in zat 


MAKING A FORTUNE. 


149 


grand enterprise is. Ze rush for him is so great ze 
price will he double very soon — as you shall zee.” 

“ Don't know how my husband would like it if he 
was here,” replied the little woman, who had been 
nervously twitching and working her fingers, now open- 
ing the satchel, then shutting it. “ Leaves me money 
enough to keep me comfortable when he goes away. 
Good provider, my husband is. Commands a ship, he 
does. Says ‘ look ahead, my darling,' when he goes 
away. ‘ Take good care of the coppers, darlin', don't 
let rogues and thieves get them ; and remember that 
one-half the world is hard at work slanderin' t’other. 
Keep an eye t' wind'rd, darlin'. We’ve sailed along 
smoothly enough through life together, but there may 
be a dismal storm ahead. Life storms are dangerous. 
Here's a kiss, good little woman — good bye.' Then he 
goes away, and I sees no more of him for three years. 
That's a long time, sir. But he is so fond of the chil- 
dren, and such a dear, good husband to me.” 

“ Mad-am,” said Gusher, again bowing and pressing 
his hand to his heart, “ wiz so good a lady for his wife, 
I am sure he shall be so happy and so proud.” Detect- 
ing the small vein of eccentricity in the little woman's 
character, Mr. Gusher was evidently inclined to en- 
courage it, hoping that it would still further develop 
her generosity. 

“ You are sure my investment will be perfectly safe?” 
enquired the little woman, looking up anxiously in Mr. 
Gusher's face. 

“Oh, madam!” rejoined Mr. Gusher. “Oh, mad- 
am!” Perfectly, as you shall zee. Ze honor of ze 
firm is pledged to zat.” 

The little woman now drew two thousand dollars 
from her satchel, and after counting it on her knee, 


150 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


passed it to Mr. Gusher. “I will invest this,” she 
said, again looking up anxiously at Mr. Gusher, and 
then fumbling over the contents of her satchel, as if it 
still contained something she was in doubt how to dis- 
pose of. “I will take your word,” she resumed, as if 
some sudden change had come over her mind. “ Life's 
short, and speculation uncertain. I am from Yonkers. 
You have heard of Yonkers, sir ? Yonkers on the Hud- 
son. People of Yonkers are boiling over with excite- 
ment about the great discovery. Thank you for your 
kindness, sir. I hope the shares will go up. If I should 
double my money, as you say I will, how father would 
laugh when he comes home. I call my good husband 
father, you know.” The little woman ran on in this 
strange and confused manner until Gusher began to 
think she was never going to stop. 

“ Invested my money — independent — don't want no- 
body to know it. Will invest another thousand dollars 
if it turns out right. Yonkers people expect to get rich 
soon by Kidd shares. Nobody’ll know it, you know. 
Don't want nobody to know it, you know. Come 
down here to invest so nobody would know it, you 
know ” 

“ I am so glad,” interrupted Mr. Gusher, receiving 
the money, “ you put your confidence in ze house. You 
shall zee zat ze honor of ze firm shall he your protec- 
tion.” As he proceeded to arrange the little equivalents 
with the picture of the big spread eagle at the top and 
the coffer dam at the bottom, the little woman fixed 
her gaze on the counting-room furniture, which seemed 
to attract her attention to an uncommon degree. Elab- 
orately-finished and highly-polished mahogany desks 
were arranged around the room, the floor was covered 
with a soft carpet, and there were carved oak chairs, 


MAKING A FORTUNE. 


151 


upholstered in green plush. The walls were hung with 
engravings and paintings representing favorite ships 
and steamboats, and a huge safe stood wide open, 
displaying shelves and drawers filed with hooks and 
papers. It was, indeed, a part of the firm's philosophy 
that what you lacked in substance you must make up 
in show. 

There, too, was a door leading into Topman’s private 
office, furnished with exquisite good taste. Topman 
was the great financial monument of the firm. Gusher 
did the elegant and ornamental. 

George Peabody, the great philanthropist, made his 
fortune and his fame in a little dark, dingy office in 
Warnford Court, London. The pretensions of the great 
firm of Topman and Gusher were not to be confined by 
any such examples of economy. 

A very clerical-looking man, with a round, smooth 
face, a somewhat portly figure, a high forehead, and a 
very bald, bright head, fringed with grey hair, and 
nicely trimmed grey side whiskers, stood at a desk, 
turning and re-turning the leaves of a big ledger. He 
was dressed in a neat black suit, and wore a white neck- 
erchief. There was ledger No. 1, and ledger No. 2, and 
ledger No. 3, all so elegantly hound, and expressive of 
the business relations of the great firm of Topman and 
Gusher. It looked very much, however, as if the portly 
gentleman was only a part of the ornamental depart- 
ment of the great firm, for, having turned and re-turned 
the pages of No. 1, he would take up No. 2, and con- 
tinue the occupation. It is true, he would pause now 
and then, and exchange a smile and a how with some 
one of the customers waiting for stock. 

There was also a slender, mild-mannered, and pre- 
cisely-dressed young man, standing at another desk, 


152 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


and looking through a pair of gold-framed spectacles 
into a ledger. This was Mr. Foblins, registry clerk to 
the great firm. Mr. Foblins had a brigade of figures 
in column, and seemed continually busy putting them 
through a course of tactics known only to the firm. 
Mr. Foblins had his customers in column, with the 
number of shares and the amount invested, in front and 
rear ranks. 

The word “ Cashier’ ' was painted over a third desk. 
And here a rollicking, talkative little man, with a round 
fat face, and a round bald head — a sort of fat boy that 
had been overtaken on the road of life by maturity — and 
who seemed to have a joke and a pleasant word for 
everybody, and was in the best of humor with himself, 
stood counting and re-counting, and passing out and 
receiving in money. This was Mr. Books, the merry 
little man of the establishment. Books entertained an 
excellent opinion of himself, and was in high favor 
with the customers, for he was witty, musical, and talk- 
ative. More than that, he was a stately little man, and 
well informed in all the great political movements of 
the day, and would entertain customers on the condition 
of the nation while counting their money. It was evident 
that Mr. Books was not in sympathy with the great enter- 
prise his employers were developing, for he was contin- 
ually saying witty but malicious things about Gusher, 
and would even point significantly with his thumb over 
his right shoulder. When a more than ordinarily ver- 
dant customer would come with his money, Mr. Books 
would shrug his shoulders, drum with his fingers on 
the desk, and hum a tune to the words — 

“Fortunes made, and fortunes lost; 

Fools seek the phantom here at last,” &c., &c. 


MAKING A FORTUNE. 


153 


Books had several times intimated an intention to set 
up a great enterprising hanking and miscellaneous firm 
of his own. Indeed, his popularity with the patrons of 
the house was doing Mr. Books no good, especially as it 
entailed the necessity of his taking so great a number of 
drinks during the day that he would offer to bet the repu- 
tation of the firm that he was the tallest man in the es- 
tablishment, and a politer man than Gusher. So good 
an opinion had Mr. Books of himself when under these 
little delusions, occasioned accidentally, as he would 
say, that it became a serious question with him whether 
his proud position was due to Topman and Gusher or 
his own great merits. In fine, it had more than once 
occurred to him that the firm was indebted to his per- 
sonal popularity for its great reputation. 

Mr. Gusher consulted Mr. Books, and entrusted him 
with the little woman's money. Then he proceeded 
to Mr. Foblin’s desk, that gentleman turning over 
the pages of his big ledger preparatory to making an 
entry. 

“ What name did you say? I have the amount/' en- 
quired that gentleman, looking up earnestly over his 
spectacles. 

“If you please, madam," said he, approaching the 
little woman with a how, “you shall have no objection 
to give me your name. It is necessary as we shall keep 
ze book so correct." 

The little woman hesitated for a moment, fingered 
the handle of her satchel nervously, then looked up 
inquiringly in Mr. Gusher's face. Then touching him 
timidly on the right arm with the fore-finger of her 
left hand she whispered, “ Nautical, nautical, my nau- 
tical name?" Then her lips motioned and her finger 
pressed on Mr. Gusher's arm. Mr. Gusher looked at 


154 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


the little woman with an air of surprise and astonish- 
ment. 

“ Nau-tick-el ? I do not understand zat, madam.” 

“ Elizabeth Judson Bottom. That’s my name,” 
resumed the woman, raising her voice, and seeming to 
speak with a feeling of relief. “ Bottom is my hus- 
band’s name.” Here she lowered her voice again. 
u Nautical. Commands a ship. Is away off in the 
South Sea, my husband is. There’s nobody got a better 
husband than I have.” The little woman said this 
with an emphasis and a smile of satisfaction lighting 
up her face. “ You may have heard of my husband, 
sir? He is well known among nautical people. My 
husband sails the celebrated ship Pacific, and has made 
three successful voyages. You hav’nt had much to do 
with ships if you hav’nt heard of my husband. There, 
there, that looks just like the ship he sails in.” The 
little woman pointed to the picture of a ship under full 
sail hanging on the wall. 

Madam, I am sure I shall know your husband,” 
said Mr. Gusher, returning with the paper representing 
the number of shares the little woman had paid her 
money for. “ I shall be so happy to zee him when he 
shall come home.” Mr. Gusher handed her the paper, 
saying: ‘'Now, madam, you shall take good care of 
zis. Your money, it shall be perfectly safe.” 

While this interesting little episode was being per- 
formed up stairs, an open carriage, showily caparisoned 
and drawn by a stylish pair of well-groomed bays, 
drew up at the door. A desperate effort had evidently 
been made to get the coachman into some sort of livery, 
for he wore a tall black hat, with a broad velvet band, 
and a buckle in front as big as an ordinary sized horse 
shoe* His coat, too, was of green cloth, covered all 


MAKING A FORTUNE. 


155 


over with large brass buttons, and he seemed proud of 
his white gloves and tight-fitting breeches, which he 
kept looking down at every few minutes. 

This was Mrs. Topman’s new “ turn out,” which she 
had recently set up in opposition to one indulged in by 
a circumspect and very aristocratic neighbor. Topman 
alighted from the carriage, received and returned the 
bows of several persons on the sidewalk, and soon 
came hurrying into the counting-room, where he was 
received with great respect by the combined dignity of 
the firm. 

“ Madam,” said Mr. Gusher, again addressing the 
little woman, “ allow me to have ze pleazure as I shall 
present to you zis gentleman.” Here Mr. Gusher in- 
troduced Topman, his partner, and gave him a short- 
account of the business she was on. 

“ Why, my dear, good lady!” said Topman, grasp- 
ing her hand with a freedom indicating that they had 
been old friends. “ Your husband and me — why, we 
were old friends. If there is any man in the world I 
respect and admire, that man is Captain Price Bottom. 
If there is any man living I would rather make a for- 
tune for than do anything else, that man is Captain 
Price Bottom. Yes, madam, not many years ago I 
used to swear by Captain Price Bottom ; and if Cap- 
tain Price Bottom was here to-day, I will venture to 
assert, on the word of a gentleman, there is no man 
who would sooner swear by your humble servant ” 

“I am so real glad! My husband made friends 
wherever he went,” interrupted the little woman. 

“Glad! glad!” resumed Topman, “so ami. God 
bless him, wherever he goes ! Go back, madam, and 
get all your neighbors interested in this great enter- 
prise. Tell them the managers are old friends of your 


156 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


husband. Get them to bring in their money, madam, 
and secure a fortune l” Mr. Topman now showed the 
little woman the discolored dollars, a matter of great 
importance, which Mr. Gusher had omitted. 

“Our motto is, madam, ‘ Never invest your money 
until you have seen your basis/ If you see your basis, 
and it is satisfactory, then come down with your money 
and await your fortune. You see the basis, now put 
your faith in the firm \” concluded Mr. Topman, politely 
bowing the little woman out. She took her departure 
for home, fully satisfied that she had a good friend in 
Mr. Topman, and that she had made a permanent 
investment. 


CHAPTER XXI. 


COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS. 

The Great Discovery Company had run its race of 
prosperity. A few months passed, and the prospects 
of those connected with it began to change. Chapman 
went about Nyack shaking bis head despondingly, and 
saying that he had been deceived by Hanz Toodleburg, 
who had deceived them all with his story about Kidd’s 
treasure, and would be the cause of their losing a large 
amount of money. 

“ I never would have been caught in such a trap, but 
I believed Hanz Toodleburg to be an honest man, a very 
honest man, and I put faith in his word. But I have 
been deceived. Well, it is not the first time my confi- 
dence has been abused in this way,” Chapman would 
say, holding up his hands, while his face assumed an 
expression of injured innocence. 

Hanz, on the other hand, protested his innocence. 
Never in all his life, he said, had he taken a dollar of 
money not his own, and honestly made. He was per- 
suaded to do what he had done by the gentlemen whom 
he supposed engaged in an honest enterprise. In truth, 
he had never suspected them of a design to get honest 
people’s money in a dishonest way. 

“If I toos t’ shentlemens a favors, und ta makes t’ 
money, und I makes no money, und t’ peoples don’t 
get no money pack, what I cot t’ do mit him?” Hanz 
would say, when accused by the settlers of aiding de- 
signing men to get their hard earnings. But all he 
could say and protest did not relieve him of the 


158 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


suspicion that he was a participant in getting up the 
enterprise. In short, there was the old story of his 
knowledge of where Kidd’s treasure was buried lending 
color of truth to the statements made to his injury by 
Chapman. 

The innocent Dutch settlers would gather at Bright’s 
inn of an evening, smoke their pipes, mutter their dis- 
content at the way things had turned, compare their 
“ equivalents,” and relate how much saving it had cost 
them to get the money thrown away on them. If it 
had not been for Hanz Toodleburg, they said, not a man 
of them would have believed a word of the story about 
Mr. Kidd and his money. Indeed, they would insist 
on laying all their sorrows at Hanz’s door. 

Chapman had also circulated a report, which had 
gained belief among the settlers, that the trouble was 
caused by the devil refusing to surrender the key of the 
big iron chest ; that he had been heard under sounding- 
rock, making terrible noises, and threatening to destroy 
every man working in the shaft. Then it was said that, 
the ghost had reappeared and so frightened the men 
that they had refused to work. Another story was set 
afloat that the bottom had fallen out of the pit, and the 
iron chest containing the treasure had sunk beyond 
recovery. The simple fact was that the cunning fellows 
never expected to find a dollar. 

These strange stories agitated Nyack for several 
weeks, and under their influence Chapman so managed 
to divide opinion that Hanz had to bear the greater 
share of blame for bringing distress on the poor people. 
One and then another of his neighbors would chide 
him, and say it was all his fault that they had lost their 
money and had nothing to show for it but these worth- 
less bits of paper. 


COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS. 


159 


To add to Hanz’s troubles, Chapman entered his 
house one day, and openly reproached him for bringing 
distress on his friends. “ You know you have done 
wrong, old man/’ said he, assuming the air of an 
injured man. “ You would not have deceived me — no 
man would — but that I took you for a Christian. And 
when I take a man for a Christian I put faith in him. 
That’s why I put faith in you. I believed you honest, 
you see.” 

Chapman’s familiar and even rude manner surprised 
and confounded Hanz. In vain he protested his inno- 
cence, and offered to call the Dominie and Doctor 
Critchel to testify that he had never in his life wronged 
any man out of a shilling. 

“ You sold us something you had not got,” continued 
Chapman, in an angry tone, “ and in that you commit- 
ted a fraud. Honest men don’t do such things — never ! 
Mr. Toodlebug. I thought you were a friend ; but 
you have deceived me — have deceived us all !” 

The plot was now beginning to develop itself, and 
Hanz for the first time began to see what a singular 
chain of adverse circumstances Chapman had drawn 
around him. Never before in his life had a man openly 
charged him with doing wrong. Angeline was even 
more troubled than Hanz, and listened with fear and 
trembling to the words as they fell from Chapman’s 
lips. What could have worked this change in a person 
who had so recently expressed such friendship for them? 
Her pure, unsuspecting soul would not permit her to 
entertain the belief that her husband could do wrong. 
She attempted to speak and enquire what this strange 
and unaccountable scene meant ; but her eyes filled with 
tears, her face became as pale as marble, and her reso- 
lution failed her. Her little, happy home had been 


160 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


rudely invaded, and a grasping, avaricious enemy had 
shown himself where she expected to find a friend. 

“I don’t want to distress you, Mr. Toodlebug, I 
don’t,” said Chapman, keeping his keen eyes fixed 
on Hanz. “ I don’t want to distress you, I don’t. But 
you must show that you are an honest man. Honesty 
is the best policy. I’ve always found it so, at least. 
You must make this thing all right, if it takes all you 
have to do it.” When he had said this he put on his 
hat and rudely took his departure. 

“Angeline, mine Angeline,” said Hanz, “if dish 
bat man should make me loose mine goot name, den 
mine life it pees very misherahle. What I toes I toes t’ 
oplige t’ gentleman. How I toes wish mine Tite, mine 
poor poy Tite, vas here.” He sat thoughtfully in his 
chair for several minutes, then sought consolation for 
his wounded feelings in a pipe. 

Chapman had not been long gone when Mattie came 
rolicking into the house, as if to form a bright and 
sunny contrast with the scene that had just ended. 
She carried a little basket in her hand, was dressed in 
a flowing white skirt and sack, wore a broad sun hat 
encircled with a blue ribbon, and her golden hair was 
decorated with wild flowers. There was something so 
fascinating in that merry, laughing voice, something 
so pure, innocent, and girlish in that simple dress and 
that sweet, smiling face, that it seemed as if Heaven 
had ordained her to represent truth and goodness. 
Setting the basket down on the table she ran to Ange- 
line, embraced and kissed her, not perceiving that 
trouble had depressed that good woman’s spirits. 

“And you, too, good Father Hanz,” she said, turn- 
ing to him, and saluting him in her free, frank 


COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS. 


161 


manner ; “ you shall have a kiss, too.” And she took 
his hand and imprinted a kiss on his cheek. 

She suddenly discovered that something was the 
matter, paused, and looked at Angeline with an air of 
surprise. Her first thought was that they had received 
bad news from Tite, which they were trying to conceal 
from her. Almost unconsciously her gentle nature 
began to beat in sympathy with Angeline's, and a tear 
stole slowly down her cheek. “ You have heard from 
Tite; is he sick? have you heard had news?” she 
inquired, in rapid succession, as she watched every 
change in Angeline's features. 

Angeline shook her head, and looked up sweetly but 
sorrowfully in Mattie's face. “ Nothing, nothing, my 
good child,” she replied, kissing Mattie's hand. But 
there was the tear of sorrow writing its tale on her 
cheek. “ God will bless and protect our Tite,” she 
resumed ; “ but we have heard nothing from him since 
the letter you saw.” 

“I am so glad,” rejoined Mattie, her face lighting 
up with a sweet smile. “ I think about him every day, 
and I know he thinks about me. So, now, mother 
Angeline, you must cheer up. You will, won't you? 
It won't do to be sad when Tite is away.” And, after 
patting Angeline on the shoulder and kissing her 
cheek, “you shall see, now,” she resumed, bringing 
forward the basket, “what nice presents I have brought 
for you, Mother Angeline. Made these all with my 
own hands.” 

Here the happy, smiling girl drew from her basket a 
number of frills and wristlets, a worsted-worked candle 
mat, and a cambric handkerchief, in one corner of 
which she had ingeniously worked Angel ine's name. 
“ They are all for you, Mother Angeline, all for you,” 

ii 


162 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


she said, tossing them one after another into her lap. 
“You are so good. - Keep them all until Tite comes 
home. Then you can show them to him as a proof of 
what a true and good girl I have been.” 

Ilanz viewed this act of kindness on the part of 
Mattie with an air of surprise and astonishment. It 
was in such beautiful contrast to her father's rudeness 
and severity that he was at a loss how to account 
for it. 

“Vel, vel !” exclaimed Hanz, raising his hands, 
“you pees sho goot a gal as I ever did she. Yes, mine 
sliild, I never shees no petter gals as you pees.” And 
he rose from his chair, and approaching Mattie, patted 
her on the shoulder encouragingly. “ You pees such 
a goot girl,” he repeated, “and you will pe mine 
goot friend, eh ?” 

“ Certainly I will. Why should I be anything 
else?” replied Mattie, looking up smilingly in his face. 

Hanz shook his head. “ It pees sho now as nopody 
can shay who pees his friend, and who pees not his friend. 
I pees sho glad you pees mine friend.” 

“ I should like to know, Father Hanz, what troubles 
you?” resumed Mattie, whose quick eye read in his 
face the trouble that was making his heart sad. “ Tell 
me what troubles you, Father Hanz, and I will be a 
friend to you, no matter who it is.” 

“Mine shilds,” replied the old man, drooping his 
head, “ dar vas un man, he shay as he pees mine goot 
friend. Dat friend he pees mine enemy. He prings 
sliorrow into mine house. Unt he prings dat shorrow 
when mine poor Tite he pees sho far away as I ton't 
know where he is.” 

Tears again filled the old man's eyes as he spoke, and 
he paused, shook his head, and buried his face in his 


COMING- EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS. 


163 


hands. There was something in the old man’s unwill- 
ingness to disclose who it was Chat had caused him 
this trouble that excited Mattie’s suspicions. 

“You must tell me, Father Hanz,” said she, encir- 
cling his neck with her right arm and patting him on 
the cheek encouragingly and affectionately with her 
left hand, “who has caused you all this trouble.” 

Hanz looked up earnestly and enquiringly into her 
face. Still there was a doubt in that look it was im- 
possible to mistake. 

“You ton’t know, eh? you ton’t know, eh? Maype 
as he is petter as you ton’t know, mine shild. T’ man 
what prings sliorrow into mine house ; t’ man what 
shays I pees one tlef t’ mine neighpors — dat man he 
pees no friend of mine.” Again the old man paused, 
and looked up inquiringly into Mattie’s sweet face, as 
if anxious to trace the secret of her thoughts. And as 
he did so the breeze tossed the grey hairs over his fore- 
head, as if to cover up the wrinkles age had written on it. 

“Mine taughter, mine taughter,” he resumed, grasp- 
ing Mattie’s hand firmly, “ I’se gettin’ old now. Tare 
von’t pe no more of old Hanz Toodleburg shoon. You 
never know’d nothin’ pad of old Hanz Toodleburg — 
does you, mine taughter?” 

“Never, never! Why, Father Hanz, nobody has 
been saying anything against you,” replied Mattie, 
smiling. 

“ Dar has, too,” resumed Hanz. “ What I lives for 
now is mine goot name, and mine poor Tite. I pees a 
friend to everypody what needs a friend, and now what 
I needs mineshelf is one goot friend. You she, mine 
taughter, if mine little farm he pees gone, and if mine 
sheep, and mine cows, and mine everything pees gone, 
den der is nothin’ for mine Tite when he comes home.” 


1G4 


THE VON TOODLEBUBGS. 


The old man paused for a moment. It was impossi- 
ble for him to keep the secret of his trouble from Mattie 
any longer. He opened his heart to her and disclosed 
the fact that it was her own father who had brought 
sorrow into his home. Yes, it was her father who had 
led him like a child into trouble, and then thrown 
around his acts such a chain of suspicious circumstances 
that you could scarcely find a man in the village, where 
but a short time ago Hanz was so great a favorite, who 
did not believe him guilty of inventing the Kidd Dis- 
covery Company, and bringing ruin and distress on his 
neighbors. There was the paper Hanz had signed, 
setting forth that he possessed the secret of where 
Kidd's treasure was buried, and bearing the proof that 
he had sold it for a consideration. Chapman under- 
stood the value of this, and went about the village 
showing it as a proof that there was at least one man 
innocent, and that man was himself. There, too, was 
the old story that had clung to him through life — that 
he knew all about Kidd, his father having sailed with 
him on the Spanish Main. And there was the expedi- 
tion up the river, in which he had played so prominent 
a part. 

Chapman well understood the effect these things 
would have on the minds of the ignorant and super- 
stitious, and he turned them against Hanz with such 
skill as to completely get the better of him. In short, 
he would assert his innocence with so much plausa- 
bilitv that the simple-minded settlers began to believe 
him the saint he set himself up for, and Hanz the 
sinner who had got all their money. 

Mattie heard this strange declaration made by Hanz 
against her father with feelings of sorrow and surprise. 
She hung down her head and remained silent for some 


COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS. 


165 


time, for her mind was bewildered with strange and 
exciting thoughts. Then, looking up, she said : 

“ Cheer up, don’t be sad, Father Hanz. You will 
always find a friend in me. My father shall also he 
your friend. We are going to leave Nyack, hut I will 
come and see you, and be your friend. Don’t think bad 
of my father, and he shall yet be your friend.” And 
she kissed Angeline and Hanz and bid them good bye. 

Mattie had never for a moment entertained the 
thought that her father would knowingly wrong these 
old people. Her heart was too pure, her nature too 
trusting, to entertain a suspicion of wrong. She had 
seen him engaged in transactions she did not under- 
stand; she had seen him associate with men she did 
not like, but she never enquired what his motive for so 
doing was. How he became acquainted with, and 
what his business with Topman and Gusher was, had 
been a mystery to her. The object was clear enough to 
her now. The conversation she had overheard one 
night between her father and Topman, relative to a 
meeting at Hanz’s house, and getting him to sign a 
paper purporting to sell them a secret, was all ex- 
plained. This conversation put a powerful weapon in 
her hand, and if used skilfully she could save her 
father from trouble and also protect old Hanz. Indeed, 
her mind ran back over a train of curious circumstances, 
which now became clearer and clearer, and when linked 
together discovered the object they were intended to 
effect. There was no mistaking the motive. Still, 
like a true and loving daughter, she saw her father 
only in the light of innocence and truth. The more 
she contemplated the matter the more sincerely did she 
believe him an instrument in the hands of Topman and 
Gusher, of whose designs she had heard others speak. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

THE CHAPMANS MOVE INTO THE CITY 

Chapman had developed Nyack pretty thoroughly, 
had made money enough to feel independent, and 
attributed it all to his own virtues. He had got up no 
end of quarrels, invented, new religions, established a 
hotel on principles of high moral economy, advocated 
broad and advanced ideas in everything, and kept the 
settlement in a state of excitement generally. Chap- 
man was indeed a great human accident. There was 
no confining him to any one thing, either in religion, 
politics, or finance. He had a morality of his own, 
which he said belonged to the world's advanced ideas, 
and it was not his fault if there were so few persons 
enlightened enough to understand and appreciate it in 
its true sense. 

Chapman was indeed not one of those men who carry 
blessings into a community with them, hut rather one 
of those who seem to delight in planting curses wher- 
ever they go, and leaving their victims to reap the 
bitter fruit in poverty and ruin. Himself a mental 
deformity, none of his enterprises had been of any real 
benefit to the community, while his last and most rep- 
rehensible one had resulted in emptying the pockets of 
the old Dutch settlers, and leaving them bits of worth- 
less paper to remember him by. 

And yet this man could talk of himself like a very 
saint. He had the power, too, of making many of 
those who had suffered by his acts believe him honest. 
Indeed, while one portion of the community was curs- 
ing him for a knave, another was defending him as a 


THE CHAPMANS MOVE INTO THE CITY. 167 

really useful man — an opinion Mrs. Chapman was 
always ready to endorse. In short, Chapman had sup- 
porters in Nyack who would have sent him to Congress 
out of sheer love for his talents, which they were sure 
would have found a happy field for their development. 
Mrs. Chapman always sought to conciliate these friends, 
and would invite them to tea. On these little occasions, 
after discussing the merits of cider-vinegar and home- 
made pumpkin pies, and the care respectable people 
should exercise over the company they kept, for there 
was pure New England “ grit” in the lady, she would 
recur to her dear husband. 

“All Nyack will confess how intellectually great he 
is,” she would say; “and show me the person who has 
done more to elevate the moral respectability of Nyack. 
Nyack was such a dull, sleepy place when — when we 
first honored it with our company. See what it now is. 
My dear husband worked up these low Dutch people 
so ; yes, and he improved their morals. And I flatter 
myself I have elevated its society — a little.” 

Chapman had now thoroughly developed Nyack, 
financially and religiously. He had saved up a nice 
little fortune, enough with care and good management 
to keep him comfortable and give Mrs. Chapman a 
wider field for the exercise of her love of display. 
There was now little chance of making any more money 
out of Nyack, either by getting up quarrels between 
neighbors or inventing new religions. So the Chap- 
mans resolved to go into the city and set up for very 
respectable people. As nobody wanted the big house 
for a church Chapman rented it to Titus Bright for an 
inn, and as nothing was said about moral restrictions, 
that worthy friend of the thirsty and weary traveller 
kept it in the good old-fashioned way of giving 


168 


TIIE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


customers wliat they wanted and asking no questions. 
He would much rather, Chapman said, have seen it put 
to a less profane use, hut as Bright was a responsible 
tenant, and could pay more rent than any one else, the 
morality had to sink in the necessity. 

A few months passed and the Chapmans were set up 
in New York, in a spacious and well-furnislied house 
on the east side of Bowling Green. Chapman was 
soon busy looking after the affairs of the great firm of 
Topman and Gusher, which I need scarcely tell the 
reader was a creation of his. Mrs. Chapman soon had 
enough to do at pushing her way into society. But the 
more she pushed the more did little social obstructions 
seem to rise up and defeat her efforts. She would 
associate with first-rate society, she said, or none ; and 
Mattie should be introduced and shine in the “ upper 
circles.' * 

Bowling Green stood on its dignity in those days. 
There were very nice and very old families living there 
then, and they kept themselves rolled up in their wealth 
and comfort, and looked coldly down on all new and 
pretentious people. West Bowling Green, too, put on 
airs of superiority over East Bowling Green, which it 
affected to designate with the term “ rather vulgar." 
They were quiet, well brought up people on the West 
side, people who had made a family name and were 
proud of it, whose superior enterprise and genius had 
raised them above ordinary people, and who had 
acquired wealth by honorable means. 

There was, indeed, a charm about these families, 
made more attractive by the simplicity and gentleness 
of their manners, for they were refined, and entertained 
their friends generously. In short, West Bowling 
Green and a portion of the Battery had at that day a 


THE CHAPMANS MOVE INTO THE CITY. 


169 


social empire of its own, which had a flavor of rich old 
wine about it, and was as distinct as distinguished in 
all its surroundings. It rode in its own carriage, had 
orderly and well-dressed coachmen, wore an air of great 
circumspection, dined at five o’clock, and lived like a 
well-bred gentleman. 

East Bowling Green had begun to lose cast, and, 
indeed, was under a cloud socially. Its society was made 
up of new, fast, and somewhat showy people, whose 
antecedents it was difficult to get at, (at least West 
Bowling Green said so,) and who, for want of a family 
reputation, put on the airs of a vulgarian. These people 
spent their money freely, and seemed to have enough 
of it, but they aspired to make a show rather than 
secure real enjoyment. They associated with third-rate 
people, and vied with each other in giving parties and 
balls to which all the young swells in town were invited. 
In fine, East Bowling Green had a cheap, retail flavor 
about it which all its show and extravagance failed either 
to conceal or atone for. 

Mrs. Chapman had resided three months in Bowling 
Green, and yet first-class society had kept its doors 
closed — did not even condescend a smile. This was 
very mortifying to a lady whose pretentions were quite 
equal to her dimensions. A few second and third-rate 
people had made a formal call, or left a card. But it 
was merely as a matter of ceremony. Mr. Pinks, the 
elegant old beau of the Green, who was looked up to 
by first-rate society everywhere, and considered himself 
horn to stand guard over it and protect it from vulgar 
contact, and who was accepted as authority in all 
matters of etiquette, and had standing invitations to 
dinner with all the best families, had called to pay 
his respects and congratulate the lady. But Pinks 


170 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


considered this strictly a matter of duty — to make an 
observation. 

When Beau Pinks reported the result of his call to 
the Warburton family, who were first-rate people, and 
the Warburton family spread it through West Bowling 
Green, there was great amusement in the neighbor- 
hood. 

“ Won’t do, the lady won’t,’* said Pinks, lowering 
his voice to a whisper, and shaking his head. “ Lady 
weighs two hundred pounds and more. A dead weight 
on the back of any society. Very pretentious, but 
makes shocking work of the King’s English, and dis- 
covers low origin in her conversation generally. Puts 
on finery without regard to color or complexion, told 
me how many new dresses she had making, has big, 
fat hands, and wears common gold rings. Worse than 
all,” continued Pinks, raising his hands, u the lady 
wanted to know if I could tell her how to reform ser- 
vants, and if I liked rhubarb pies for breakfast.” 

With such a report from Pinks it was no wonder 
first-rate society did not* take kindly to the lady. The 
rhubarb pies for breakfast settled the question in Pinks’ 
mind, and he never called again, though he kept up a 
bowing acquaintance with the lady. Mrs. Chapman 
now fell back on a reception. A reception would he 
the thing to make Bowling Green surrender. The day 
was set and cards sent out, and notwithstanding Mr. 
Gusher, who was her standing ornament and idol, 
assisted her in drumming up recruits, the affair turned 
out to he very unsatisfactory. The nice people she 
invited sent regrets ; and those who did come were 
second and third-rate people, who never miss a recep- 
tion on any account, seeing that it affords them the 
cheapest means of showing themselves. There were 


THE CHAPMANS MOVE INTO THE CITY. 


171 


cheap people then, just as there are cheap people now, 
ready enough to put in an appearance at a lady’s 
reception, especially if she gave nice suppers and had 
daughters to he admired. Nor was it an uncommon 
thing, even at that day, for a pretentious woman who 
bad just set up in society, and taken to the business of 
reception-giving, to find herself made the target of a 
tittle innocent satire by the nice young gentlemen she 
bad invited to pay her homage. 

Chapman differed from his wife, inasmuch as he 
regarded society as a great bore. Mrs. Chapman, 
however, was not a little disappointed at the way 
things had turned. They were flashy and rather fast 
people who came to her reception ; people whom nobody 
of established respectability knew or cared to know — 
thoughtless young men, overdressed young women with 
matrimonial expectations, and a few needy foreigners 
with small titles. To make the matter worse, some of 
the lady’s guests wore eye-glasses, through which 
they persisted in gazing at her, and conducted them- 
selves very unbecomingly. Indeed, they eat up all 
her supper, spoiled her carpet, insulted her servants, 
and paid her certain left-handed compliments because 
she had neither coffee nor wine on her side-hoard. The 
foreigners, too, were inclined to be merry at the lady’s 
circumference, and at the awkwardness of her move- 
ments, as well as to be severe on the style of her dress 
and the way she wore her hair. 

“ Who are these people?” enquired a young man, 
adjusting his eye-glass. 

“ Very new people,” whispered another in reply. 

“ Vulgar, evidently— just set up to he somebody — 
don’t understand it,” rejoined a third, shrugging his 
shoulders. 


172 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


Mr. Gusher, who had assisted the lady in beating up 
her recruits, had assured them that the Chapmans 
were very distinguished people. 

Mrs. Chapman was not more successful in setting up 
a carriage of her own. She had done a great deal of 
pushing without affecting a lodgment in the society she 
had set her heart on. With a carriage of her own she 
felt that she would be just as good as any of those high 
old Bowling Green people. She had read of a lady in 
her carriage driving right into society and forcing a 
surrender. 

Unfortunately the fools were not so plenty as for- 
merly, the demand for Kidd Discovery stock had 
greatly diminished, and the expense of keeping up 
appearances in the city had far exceeded Chapman’s cal- 
culations. Indeed, he had already begun to talk of the 
necessity of economy. Topman was already drawing 
heavily on the income of the firm to keep up appear- 
ances, and the future must not be overlooked. The 
lady had, therefore, to content herself with a one-horse 
turn-out, an establishment not very popular in Bowling 
Green even at that day. Although the lady had to 
accept the necessity, there was no getting along without 
a coachman, and Mr. Napoleon Bowles was engaged to 
wear a livery and wait on the lady in that capacity. 
Now Bowles stood about five feet four inches in his 
boots, was very fat and very short-legged, and very 
black, for he was a person of African descent and 
established color. Bowles weighed at least two hun- 
dred and fifty solid, so that when he drove his mistress 
out for an airing of an afternoon the whole establish- 
ment made so shabby and yet so comical an appearance 
as to afford the whole neighborhood a subject for 
amusement. Nor was there a more self-important 


THE CHAPMANS MOVE INTO THE CITY. 173 

person in all Bowling Green than Bowles — except, 
perhaps, it might he his mistress. But it was only 
when he got himself into those tight-fitting drab 
trousers, and that bright blue coat with double rows of 
brass buttons, and mounted that small, tall hat with 
the huge buckle in front, that he fancied himself seen 
to advantage. 

Bowles not only became a feature in Bowling Green 
society, but indeed considered himself necessary to the 
dignity of the family he was serving, and in duty hound 
to fight any coachman who would make the slightest 
insinuations against it. This got him into numerous 
difficulties, for there was not a coachman in the neigh- 
borhood that did not set him down as a fair subject for 
unpleasant remarks. One called him a dumpling- 
stomached darkey ; while another said he must have 
been brought up in the family and fed on puddings. 

“ Can't he much of a family,” a third would say, 
“ to have such a short-legged shadow as you for coach- 
man, and only one horse. And such a livery as that ! 
Why don’t your mistress dress you like a man?” 

Mr. Bowles had several times found himself measur- 
ing the pavement and his hat in the gutter, as a reward 
for his attempts to resent such indignities, which he 
considered were offered to the family rather than him- 
self. There was so close a resemblance between the 
circumference of the lady and her coachman as tc 
seriously damage the pretensions of the family, and 
bring down upon it no end of ridicule. 

There was another serious impediment to the lady’s 
pretentions, and that was no less a person than Mis. 
Topman. No sooner had the Chapmans set up in 
Bowling Green than that lady took them into her 
keeping, promising them no end of introductions to 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


m 

nice people. Now, Mrs. Topman was one of those 
social afflictions which are found everywhere, whose 
touch is like contagion, and who take strangers into 
their keeping only to do them more harm than good. 
I have called them social afflictions for want of a better 
term. Mrs. Topman was the highest example of the 
species. She had been beating about on the outskirts 
of society without gaining an entrance into it until she 
was like a faded bouquet that had lost its freshness 
and perfume. In short, she was a tall, rakish looking 
craft, with ingeniously painted head-gear, carrying an 
immense amount of sail, and flying colors not recog- 
nized by good society in Bowling Green — at least not 
on the West side. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


MRS. CHAPMAN GIVES A BALL. 

It was a cold, dark night in December. The wind 
was blowing fresh from the northeast, the tall trees on 
the Battery were in commotion, and the ships in the 
harbor, seen through a pale mist, were straining at 
their anchors. A thin, pale mist hung over the sombre 
old fort on the Battery, over the trees, over the ships, 
over everything within the eye's reach. And the mist 
and the solemn beating sound of the sea-wail, in which 
the sailor fancies he can read all his sorrows, gave a 
wierd and mysterious appearance to the scene. The 
Battery was nearly deserted that night, for at the time 
we write of only two old men could be seen, leaning 
over the railing on the sea-wall and watching in the 
direction of a ship at anchor in the stream, and looking 
as if she was just in from sea. 

Mrs. Chapman was to give her hall that night. The 
lady had for several weeks given all her mind and 
energy to the preliminaries of this grand affair. Who 
was to be invited, what sort of new dresses she and 
Mattie would appear best in, who was to provide the 
supper, and what the whole would cost, were subjects 
which so engaged the lady's attention that she could 
think of nothing else. In vain did Chapman demur to 
the great expense and the folly of keeping up appear- 
ances under such circumstances. In vain did he insin- 
uate the probable necessity of inventing a new religion 
as a means of bringing his revenues up to his necessi- 
ties. A necklace of pearls and a diamond ring had 

175 


176 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


been got for Mattie, and now a demand was made for a 
new and expensive dress. If there was anything in 
the world Chapman admired and submitted to it was 
his wife. In his thoughts she was above everything 
else, and he would surrender to her demands, no matter 
at what sacrifice. As for Mattie, he never seemed to 
care much about her, nor indeed to regard her with 
anything more than ordinary affection. 

There was no getting along without the ball, Mrs. 
Chapman said. West Bowling Green had given two 
or three balls, and had not condescended to send her 
an invitation. It was very mortifying to get the cut 
direct in this way. She must bring West Bowling 
Green down by showing that she could give a ball of 
her own. And then it would be such a relief to her 
pride. And, too, it would be just the thing to show 
Mattie off to the best advantage. Mr. Gusher would 
shine brilliantly in a ball room, and so would Mattie, 
and if the young people could be reconciled in that 
way, why it would be money well spent. 

Mrs. Topman was delighted at the prospect, and so 
was Gusher. And both had been going about among 
their friends for a week sounding the trumpet of Mrs. 
Chapman’s ball, as well as telling their friends that 
the Chapmans were rich and very distinguished people. 
Bowling Green, then, was in a flutter that night. 
Chapman’s house was brilliantly lighted, and carriages 
began to arrive and set down their gaily-attired occu- 
pants ere St. Paul’s clock had struck nine. Then there 
was such a tripping of delicately turned little feet, such 
a flashing of underskirts, such a witching of perfumed 
silks and satins, such a display of white arms and 
white shoulders, as each bevy of beauties vaulted up 
the steps and were bowed into the house by the polite 


MRS. CHAPMAN GIVES A BALL. 


177 


Mr. Bowles. Bowles felt himself an important element 
in the dignity of the family that night. His mistress 
had got him a new blue coat with large brass buttons, 
and a white waistcoat that reached nearly to his knees, 
and gave him the appearance of a huge ball of snow 
surmounted by an illuminated globe painted black. 
Bowles had delivered most of the invitations, and 
firmly believed that his mistress was indebted to him 
for the success of her ball, inasmuch as he had solicited 
guests worthy of her favor. Nor was he sure that the 
ball was not given by his mistress to show him off in 
his new clothes. Bowles had a bow and a smile for 
each of the guests. “My missus is right glad to sees 
you — she is. Be a heap o' dancin’ did to-night,” he 
would say, as he bowed the guests into the hall. 

At ten o’clock the brilliantly-lighted parlors were 
filled, and presented the appearance of a garden of 
flowers variously colored. There were merry, laugh- 
ing vocies, graceful forms, young and happy faces, 
forming the light and shade of the picture presented 
to the eye. The ponderous figure of Mrs. Chapman 
formed a sort of central object. The lady was indeed 
got up in a gorgeous style of dress, for she wore all the 
colors of the rainbow, without their blending, had 
flounces nearly to her waist, giving her the appearance 
of an half-inflated balloon ; and she had made a very 
flower-basket of her head. In short, the lady had 
made a bold attempt to improve on all known styles of 
dress, and at the same time to show her contempt for 
what other people might call taste in such matters. 
Thus elaborately arrayed she fancied herself as much 
a lady of quality as any of your fine old West Bowling 
Green people. 


178 


TIIE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


A number of exquisitely dressed young men bad 
gathered about the lady, and although they paid her 
all manner of compliments, and said various pretty 
things in admiration o'f her charming daughter, it 
was evident that they regarded her as a rare curiosity, 
whose mental defects were affording them a subject 
for amusement. There the lady stood, receiving the 
congratulations of her friends and introducing her 
daughter Mattie, who was dressed in a plain blue silk 
with white trimmings, a wreath of orange blossoms on 
her head, and her golden hair hanging in simple curls 
down her shoulders. Indeed, the lady suffered by 
comparison with her daughter, whose charms were 
made more fascinating by the simplicity of her dress 
and the quietness of her manners. 

In truth, Mattie had no taste for the show and 
extravagance her mother was so fond of indulging in. 
Nor could she see what object her mother had, or what 
really was to be gained by giving this ball. She felt 
in her heart that it was a piece of extravagance her 
father could not afford as an honest man, and she saw 
prominent among the guests persons she had long mis- 
trusted of being his enemies. Gay as the scene was it 
had nothing in it to interest her. Her thoughts were 
engaged in something more real and true. They were 
wandering just then into a distant ocean in search of 
the object dearest in her affections, wondering how it 
fared with him. Then the picture of Hanz and Ange- 
line, in their humble little home, revealed itself to 
her, and her mind filled with strange fancies as to 
the part she might have to perform in saving them 
from the trouble she saw foreshadowed in her father’s 
conversation with Topman and Gusher. She little 
knew what sorrow had been brought into Hanz’s home 


MRS. CHAPMAN GIVES A BALL. 179 

-in CP she left Nyack ; nor did it occur to her that old 
Father Hanz, as she playfully called him, might even 
then be within the sound of her voice. 

The company had all assembled, the musicians were 
beginning to tune their instruments, and the time for 
dancing was drawing near. Mrs. Chapman flattered 
herself that Bowling Green would wake up in the 
morning to find that she had carried its outworks. 
But notwithstanding all the pushing she had done, and 
all the pushing her friends had done for her, she had 
not succeeded in catching the sort of people she had 
thrown her net for. There was Topman and Mrs. 
Topman, moving here and there in all the elegance of 
full dress. There were a number of others, who were 
always ready to accept an invitation where there was 
dancing to be done, or an opportunity afforded to show 
themselves in their best clothes. They were second 
and third-rate people, after all — people who get a cheap 
position in society through their proficiency in dancing, 
which they accept as the highest object a man or woman 
has to live for. 

Poor Chapman moved about here and there like a 
raven among birds of brilliant plumage ; and never 
did man look meeker or more submissive. There had 
been a curious change in his worldly affairs since the 
time when he preached humility and economy at Dog- 
town, and was ready to quarrel with any man who did 
not agree with him that show and extravagance were 
carrying the country to the devil. 

“ My wife, my dear wife, gives this ball,” he would 
say, referring timidly to the subject. “ My dear wife 
enjoys these things. Mrs. Chapman is very fond of 
young society, you see. I hope you are enjoying 


180 


THE VONTOODLE BURGS. 


yourselves. There will be dancing soon — I never 
dance — and supper at twelve.” 

There was no man more elaborately got up that 
night than Gusher. Every hair on his head . was 
trained into exact position, and his tailoring was 
faultless. In short, Gusher had got himself up with a 
view to making the greatest destruction on the female 
heart. He whisked about here and there,, making 
himself useful as well as ornamental, for he felt that 
he had got the Chapman family on his shoulders, and 
was responsible for its reputation as very distinguished. 

“ Miz, you shall permit me ze pleazure, and ze 'onar, 
to open ze dance wiz you,” said Gusher, approaching 
Mattie with his right hand on his heart, and making 
one of his extensive bows. “ You shall do me ze 'onar, 
I am sure,” he continued, and as he raised his head with 
an air of confidence, expecting to see her extend her 
hand, his eye fell on the familiar face of a young man 
standing at her side, engaging her in conversation. 
He paused suddenly, his face changed color from pale 
to crimson, and his manner became nervous and agi- 
tated. His whole system, mental and physical, seemed 
to have received a sudden and unexpected shock. 

“Yes, my daughter, you must open the ball with 
Mr. Gusher. How very kind of you, Mr. Gusher,” 
said Mrs. Chapman, with a courtesy. “It will be so 
very appropriate, my daughter, for you and Mr. Gusher 
to lead off.” Mrs. Chapman had not noticed the sin- 
gular change in Mr. Gusher's manner. He, however, 
recovered himself in a minute, and affecting not to 
notice the young man at Mattie's side, who still kept 
bis eyes fixed on him, he resumed : 

“ Ho me ze 'onar, Miz, and you shall make me so 
happy.” 


MRS. CHAPMAN GIVES A BALL. 


181 


“I am sure, mamma," returned Mattie, “ Mr. 
Gusher will excuse me. It was very kind of you to 
remember me," (turning to Mr. Gusher.) But really 
I should appear very awkward dancing with you, who 
are so good a dancer. I am sure you will excuse me 
for the opening dance, Mr. Gusher, and I shall have 
the pleasure, if you will condescend to honor me, of 
dancing with you during the evening.” 

“My daughter, my daughter!” interrupted Mrs. 
Chapman, motioning with her fan, “pray don’t be 
eccentric to-night. Accept the honor Mr. Gusher 
intended and please me — if only for once.” 

“ I am sure, mamma, I always try to please you/’ 
returned Mattie, “and I appreciate the honor Mr. 
Gusher would do me, knowing how much my dear 
mamma admires him.” Here Mattie paused for a 
moment and tapped her fingers with her fan, as the 
young man who had stood by her side turned and 
walked away for a moment. “ It was very thoughtless 
of me, mother,” resumed Mattie, (“you know I am 
only a thoughtless girl, after all) — hut the truth is I 
am already engaged for the first dance.” 

“Engaged, my daughter, engaged?” Mrs. Chap- 
man rejoined. “Pray, who to? It was very strange 
of you!” Here the young man returned to Mattie’s 
side. 

“Allow me to introduce you to my mother, Mr. 
Romer,” said Mattie. “Mr. Romer, Mr. Gusher,— 
a friend of our family.” Mrs. Chapman made a 
courtesy, and the two gentlemen bowed formally and 
coldly. 

“If I mistake not,” said Mr. Romer, who was a 
young man of polished manners, slender of form, with 
a frank, open countenance, and evidently a gentleman, 


182 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


“we have met before.' ' He kept his eyes fixed on 
Gusher, as if resolved to read his thoughts in the 
changes that were going on in his countenance. 

“ Pardon, pardon, monsieur/' returned Mr. Gusher, 
affecting an air of self-confidence supported by inno- 
cence. “I ne-var re-mem-bar as we has meets before. 
You shall zee I shall make you my respects. We 
shall meet again, I am sure of zat, zen we shall be 
such good friends. But I ne-var re-mem-bar zat we 
meets before." 

“ You were living in a castle then," returned the 
young man, coolly, “ and I was only an outsider. 
People who live in castles at times don't remember 
common people." 

It was a strange and curious meeting. Mattie saw 
there was something embarrassing between the two 
gentlemen, and came quickly to their relief. 

“I am Mr. Romer's partner for the first dance," she 
said, addressing Mr. Gusher, with a bow. “It was 
very thoughtless of me. You were so very kind. But 
I am sure you are too generous not to excuse me." 

“ It is my great misfortune, miz. But you shall zee 
as I ne-var intrude myself.* I shall have ze pleazure 
during ze evening." Gusher blushed and withdrew to 
another part of the ball room, where he captured Mrs. 
Topman, who was delighted at having such a partner 
for the first dance. Mrs. Topman was indeed popular 
as a dancing lady, and nothing pleased her better than 
to show her skill in the art in company with Gusher, 
whom all the pretty young girls said moved so nice on 
his -feet. 

The music now struck up and fell softly and sweetly 
on the ear, and the dancing began, and each figure 
seemed floating in the very poetry of motion, until the 


MRS. CHAPMAN GIVES A BALL. 


183 


bewitching scene carried the mind away captive in its 
gyrations. 

Mattie had never seen Mr. Bomer, nor indeed heard 
of him before that night. She knew nothing of the 
relations existing between him and Gusher. She was 
equally a stranger to Mr. Gusher’s antecedents. Her 
mind had, however, for some time been engaged trying 
to solve the mysterious agency that had brought him 
into business relations with her father. Being a girl 
of fixed character and good common sense, it was only 
natural that she should entertain an instinctive dislike 
for Gusher, in whom she saw a nature, if not really 
bad, at least frivolous and artificial. 

The unexpected meeting between Bonier and Gusher 
threw a shadow over the entertainment, so far as it 
affected the latter. Here he had been for weeks sound- 
ing the trumpet of Mrs. Chapman’s ball, and looking 
forward to it as the means of making a temple of tri- 
umph of himself, and captivating no end of female 
hearts, Mattie’s included; but how sadly he was disap- 
pointed. It had suddenly thrown around him a chain 
of difficulties that might blast his ambition, destroy all 
his hopes, and cause the veil he supposed was forever 
drawn over his past life to be lifted. The only way he 
saw of extricating himself from these difficulties, of 
cutting through them as it were, was by the force and 
skilful exercise of great coolness and impudence, and 
these he resolved to use, and use quickly. 

And while the dancing was progressing a number of 
young fellows, who found more congenial enjoyment in 
their glasses and cigars, were seated at a table in a 
room down stairs, which Mrs. Chapman had provided 
as a sort of free-and-easy for such of her guests as were 


184 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


inclined to enjoy themselves in their own way. Chap- 
man had provided generously, both of wines and cigars, 
which might have seemed strange to one of his Dog- 
town acquaintances. He had, however, so modified his 
ideas as to what constituted strict morality as to believe 
it would he nothing against a man in the other world 
that he had drank a glass of wine and smoked a cigar 
in this. 

The young gentlemen were conducting themselves 
in a manner not recognized in the rules of propriety. 
Indeed, they had smoked so many of Chapman’s cigars, 
and uncorked so many bottles of his wine, and drank 
the health of the family such a number of times, that 
they were fast losing their wits. When, then, Bowles 
made his appearance in the room, to see if there was 
anything he could do for the gentlemen, he found them 
talking so strangely of his mistress, and making so 
free with her personal appearance, that he considered 
it an indignity he was hound to defend by putting on 
the severest look he was capable of. 

“ Say, Charles,” said one of the young men, address- 
ing a comrade as he raised his glass, “who did you get 
your card through? What sort of a family is it, 
anyhow ?” 

“Got mine through Gusher. He’s a kind of a spoon, 
you know. Don’t know anything of the fellow, par- 
ticularly — met him outside, you know. He’s mighty 
sweet on the filly. She’s pretty. Would’nt mind 
being sweet on her myself. I’d he a little afraid the 
old one would want to throw herself into the bargain. 
What a crusher of a mother-in-law she’d make,” re- 
turned the young man. 

“An odd-sized lot, anyhow,” interrupted a third. 
“How frightfully the old lady’s got herself up, eh? 


MRS. CHAPMAN GIVES A BALL. 


185 


What a melancholy little specimen of humanity she's 
got for a husband, eh ? Who are the Chapmans, any- 
how ?" 

“ Devilish new, devilish new," rejoined a fourth. 
“ What a mixed lot they have got for company," 

“ Fill up! fill up! gentlemen. Here's a bumper to 
the beautiful daughter. Beauty and modesty carry 
us all captive in their charms. Let us drink to the 
daughter." And they filled their glasses and drank 
Mattie’s health. 

“ When my missus inwites pussons to de ball, my 
missus 'specs dem ar gemmens what is inwited to pre- 
sarve dar qualifications. If gemmen am gemmen den 
dey don’t cum’d to my missus’s ball to suffocate her!" 
said Bowles, expressing himself, and assuming an air 
of injured dignity. 

Bowles had to pay dear for his speech in defence of 
the family, for the young gentlemen surrounded him, 
and, getting him into a high chair at the head of the 
table, compelled him to perform all sorts of antics for 
their amusement, such as making speeches and singing 
songs. They also made Bowles drink so many times 
to the lady whose livery he had the honor to wear, that 
he lost his senses, and fancied himself fighting any 
man who had said a word against the family. Indeed, 
it soon became necessary to extinguish Mr. Bowles, 
and to that end the young gentlemen rolled him up 
in the table-cover, and put him carefully away in a 
corner, where he soon went into a sound sleep, and 
remained until his master woke him up on the follow- 
ing morning. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

YEUY PERPLEXING. 

While these young gentlemen were thus enjoying 
themselves, and taking such liberties with Mrs. Chap- 
man's favorite servant, Romer entered the room, and 
was followed in a few minutes by Gusher. They had 
again met unexpectedly, for there was something ner- 
vous and hesitating in Gusher’s manner. Romer seemed 
to he a general favorite with the young men, and they 
insisted that he fill his glass and join them in drink- 
ing the health of the family. 

“ You will pardon me,” said Romer, turning to 
Gusher when they had set down their glasses; “I 
took the liberty I did up stairs through mistake.” 

“It is no matter, mine friend,” returned Gusher, 
patting Romer on the shoulder familiarly. “ I ac-cept 
ze ap-pology. You are one gentleman, I am sure. We 
shall be very good friends.” It was curious to see how 
quick Gusher regained his confidence and coolness. 

“I mistook you for a gentleman I once met in Ha- 
vana. I understand you have been there,” resumed 
Romer, keeping his eyes steadily fixed on Gusher. 

“ My farer, he has very large estates in ze Havana. 
Mine friend, I love ze Havana.” Here Gusher put his 
hand to his heart, and became exuberant. “It make 
me so much joy to zink of ze day when I shall be back 
in mine own Havana.” 

“Knew I had seen you there. You would’ nt be 
likely to remember me, however. Let us fill our 
glasses, and drink to the pleasant days we have spent 
there ” 


186 


VERY PERPLEXING. 187 

ct Oh, it is so many years since I was so happy zare,” 
interrupted Gusher, coolly. 

They filled their glasses and drank to the happy days 
they had spent in Havana. “At least the wine may 
quicken your memory as to the time we met. About 
the time I refer to,” continued Romer, still watching 
Gusher’s manner carefully, “ which was about the 
time we met, a fellow of wonderful audacity was 
flourishing, and so attracting public attention by his 
skill in rascality that little else was talked of. Louis 
Pinto was his real name ; hut he regarded names as 
a matter of no consequence, and used the names of 
rich and respectable gentlemen whenever a necessity 
demanded.” 

“You shall give me zat hand,” replied Gusher, 
extending his hand and taking Romer’s, with an air of 
refreshing coolness. “ You bring ze gentleman to my 
mind. When I shall speak ze truth I shall say he was 
one grand rascal. I remember him just so well as you 
shall see.” 

“ I am glad,” resumed Romer, “ that you know him 
for a grand rascal. Rascal as he was, I had great 
admiration for him. He had three remarkable vir- 
tues — impudence, coolness, and audacity. I call these 
virtues because a man possessing them may go through 
the world and have a history of his own. It was 
Louis’s ambition to do the State some service one 
day and ornament society with his presence the next. 
One day he relieved a rich old gentleman of his pretty 
daughter and twelve thousand ounces, and did both so 
cleverly that his skill was more admired than con- 
demned. Carrying off the daughter did not seem to 
offend the old gentleman so much ; hut his grief was 
so great over the loss of his ounces that he employed 


188 


TIIE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


means of recovering them, and with them the thief, 
whom he had sent to prison tc repent of the sin. Louis 
was rather fond of a change, and accepted prison life 
as a relief from the labor society required of him, and 
as a necessary benefit to his health rather than a pun- 
ishment. He once relieved me of some diamonds, and 
in such a manner as to make me remember him for his 
skill.” 

“ I tells you, mine friend/' interrupted Gusher, “zat 
grand rascal 'onar me in ze same way. He gets ze 
diamond. And I ne-var gets zat diamond back. He 
make me so much trouble. I am mistake for him so 
many times." Gusher now proposed that they should 
fill their glasses again, which they did, the -rest of the 
company joining and drinking to the health of the 
family. 

“That he is taken for you," resumed Rorner, 
“might be considered a compliment, as far as looks 
go. If I remember right the fellow was exceedingly 
handsome." 

This seemed to excite Gusher's vanity. Laying his 
hand patronizingly on Romer's arm, he looked up in 
his face with a smile of injured innocence. “I care 
nosin for myself ; it is wiz mine friend he make me so 
much trouble." 

“You're to be pitied, sir, very much to be pitied. 
Of course you are not Pinto, and yet the dashing, 
handsome fellow will insist in trafficing oh your repu- 
tation. How very aggravating to a gentleman of your 
position. It requires a genius to do that well. That's 
what I admired Pinto for. The fellow had such a num- 
ber of family histories at his tongue's end, and could 
apply any one of them so cleverly to his own case. In 
short, he knew exactly how to suit his customer. But 


VERY PERPLEXING. 


189 


you will remember, Mr. Guslier, the most amusing 
thing of all was the number of fathers he had. To-day 
he had a Spanish father, who had been through all the 
wars of Spain ; to-morrow his father was a Frenchman 
who had smelled powder in all the battles fought by 
Napoleon. They were generals, too. There was one 
bad feature about Louis's fathers. They were all un- 
fortunate gentlemen, who managed to fight on the 
wrong side, and got their estates confiscated and their 
families left destitute." 

Romer paused for a moment, hut kept his eyes fixed 
on Gusher. Still there was no change in his counte- 
nance. The young gentlemen who had been so merry 
hut a few minutes before, now put down their glasses 
and listened with intense interest to the conversation. 

“ You shall zee, mine friend, (wiz your permizion I 
shall call you mine friend,") replied Gusher, still cool 
and nonchalant, and again giving Romer’s hand a 
decided shake, “I have hear zat grand rascal tell ze 
same story so many times. You shall know zat I meets 
ze grand rascal on Broadway — a few days ago " 

“ You met him in New York, eh?" resumed Romer, 
affecting great surprise. c< Looking just as fresh and 
rosy as ever, I suppose, and as ready to give himself 
up to the business of ornamenting society." Romer 
patted Gusher on the shoulder familiarly, and smiled. 

“If you should meet him again," he resumed, play- 
fully, “and it is more than likely you will — stop him. 
He does' nt take offence easily. Keep your eye on him. 
Tell him you are a friend of his, and have a lady with 
a fortune you would like to introduce him to. That 
will gain his confidence. Then slip this card into his 
hand. It contains my address. Tell him I am an old 
friend of his, and have some old and important business 


190 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


I would like to settle. Don’t let your modesty interfere 
with your intentions, you know.” 

Gusher took the card, and after affecting to read the 
name placed it in his pocket, without exhibiting the 
slightest change of countenance. “ You shall zee I 
shall do myself ze ’onar of being your diplomat,” said 
he, bowing himself formally out of the room. 

“Romer, old fellow, what’s up?” enquired one of 
the young men. “A spoon, ain’t he, Romer?” 

“ Not so much of a spoon, I take it,” said another. 
“Considers himself a planet illuminating the social 
hemisphere of the Chapman family.” 

“You must pardon me, gentlemen,” said Romer, 
“ for introducing a conversation so strange to you. It 
refers to a matter which concerns the gentleman and 
myself, which he perfectly understands, and you may 
hear more of soon — not now.” 

Another, and very different scene from that described 
above, but which forms an essential part of this history, 
was being enacted just outside. While the sound of 
the- music was reverberating over Bowling Green, and 
mingling curiously with the sea-wail ; while the dance 
went on, and all seemed gay and festive within, two 
old men, bent with age and poorly clad, were seen in 
front of Chapman’s house, one of them leaning on a 
staff. They were the two shadowy figures seen on the 
Battery in the early part of the evening, looking anx- 
iously out in the direction of a ship at anchor in the 
stream. 

Their manner indicated that they were strangers in 
the city, uncertain of the location they were in. They 
would move slowly up and down in front of the house, 
then pause and listen to the music, the tripping of feet, 
and the sound of merry voices. The shadowy figures 


VERY PERPLEXING. 


191 


seen flitting through the curtains seemed to bewilder 
them. Then, after consulting together for a few min- 
utes, and as if armed with some new resolution, they 
would ascend two or three steps, as if intent on seeking 
admission to the house. Then their resolution would 
seem to fail them, they would hesitate, and return 
slowly and reluctantly to the side-walk. 

Then he of the staff stood in the shadow of the street 
lamp, and as he did so his kindly hut wrinkled face, 
his white, flowing heard and hair, reflected in the dim 
light, formed a striking picture of age made touching 
by sorrow. Then his eyes brightened and his lips quiv- 
ered, and after looking sorrowfully up at the scene before 
him for several minutes, he motioned his companion to 
him', laid his trembling hand on his arm, and said: 

“ Tar pees no shustice in dis. He prings shorrow 
hinto mine house, unt shust now his house pees full of 
peeples what rejoices. I gits mine preat mit t’ sweet 
of mine prow, so ven I ties I ties mit mine conscience 
so clear as I shays t’ mine Got, ven I meets mine Got, 
dar pees no tirt on mine hands. If I only gits some 
news from mine poor Tite, Critchel, some shoy comes 
t’ mine poor heart/ ’ And he shook his head as he 
said this, and leaned on his staff, and tears coursed 
down his wrinkled face. 

The old man was overcome, and had no power to 
restrain his emotions. It was several minutes before 
he regained control of his feelings. Then he raised his 
head, and wiping his wet, dripping beard, he pointed 
with the fore-finger of his right hand upward, and 
resumed : “Critchel !” said he, in a tone as decided as 
it was touching, “Critchel ! if tar pees un shust Got, 
un I knows in mine heart as tar pees un shust Got, He 
come to mine aid, unt He shows he pees angry mit t’ 


192 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


man vat shays he pees mine friend t’tay un prings 
shorrow into mine house to-morrow. ” 

“God will make a just reckoning with us all — depend 
on that, Hanz,” replied the other. “ But it will do no 
good to stand here. We must wait until to-morrow/' 
And the two old men proceeded up Broadway and were 
shut from sight in the mist. It will hardly be neces- 
sary to tell the reader that one was Hans Toodleburg, 
the other Doctor Cr itch el. 

Two days before the sheriff of the county had seri- 
ously disturbed the peace of Hanz’s little house by 
walking in and making service of a legal document of 
immense length — Topman and Gusher vs. Hanz Too- 
dleburg — and in which the names were recapitulated 
so many times, and in so many different ways, as to 
bewilder Hanz’s mind and send him into a state of deep 
distress. In short, Topman and Gusher, (Chapman’s 
name was not mentioned, and for reasons which any 
sharp gentleman of the legal profession will under- 
stand,) had entered suit against Hanz, charging him 
with having made certain contracts he had not ful- 
filled, of procuring money and certain other property 
for the sale of secrets he did not possess, and indeed of 
having deceived and defrauded the plaintiffs, and of 
committing crimes enough to have sent at least a dozen 
men to the penitentiary. And all this to the serious 
damage, as well in reputation as pocket, of the highly 
enterprising and rapidly advancing firm of Topman and 
Gusher. And the plaintiffs prayed, as virtuous gentle- 
men are known to pray in such cases, that the defend- 
ant's property might be attached, and such damages de- 
creed as in the discretion of the court justice demanded. 

The great Kidd Discovery Company was bearing bit- 
ter fruit for Hanz. Never before had a sheriff darkened 
13 


VERY PERPLEXING 


193 


his door, for it had been the aim of his life to owe 
no man a shilling, and never to quarrel with a neigh- 
bor. But here he was with law enough for a life-time, 
and all for doing a kindness for people he thought 
honest. He saw Chapman’s finger at the bottom of 
the transaction, hut the more he pondered over his 
troubles the more his mind got bewildered. He knew 
that before a court bis simple story would weigh as 
nothing against the proof they could bring that he had 
been associated in some suspicious way with all the cir- 
cumstances which led to the formation of the great Kidd 
Discovery Company. There, too, was a paper, bearing 
his own signature, and indeed a confession of guilt. 

In the midst of his grief it occurred to Hanz that a 
man who had invented so many religions must be some- 
thing of a Christian, so he resolved to see him face to 
face, and have an honest talk wfitli him. To that end 
he persuaded Critchel, who was his friend and adviser 
always, to bear him company into the city. He forgot 
that there were religions, based on what are called 
advanced ideas, and invented so plentifully in certain 
portions of New England, having little of either heart 
or soul in them, and which are in truth a cheap com- 
modity, used more to advance commercial than spiritual 
purposes. 

There was still another reason why these two old 
men were found in the city on that night. Nothing 
had been heard from Tite, or indeed the ship on which 
he sailed, for more than a year, and great anxiety was 
felt for her safety. A report, however, had reached 
Nyack that day that one of the Hudson Company’s 
ships had arrived at New York, and the hope that she 
might bring some tidings of the ship Pacific quickened 
his actions. 


13 


CHAPTER XXV. 

AN UNLUCKY VOYAGE. 

Let us go a little back, reader, and trace the course 
of the ship Pacific and those on hoard of her. The 
iceberg had rendered her almost helpless, and we left 
her hearing up for Punta Arenas. Having made tem- 
porary repairs there she sailed for Coquimbo, where she 
was thoroughly refitted and provided with new anchors 
and chains. The great expense and delay incident to 
this had seriously interfered with the prospects of the 
voyage, and to such of the crew and officers as were on 
shares left hut little hope of returns. This naturally 
produced a feeling of discouragement and despondency. 

And when the ship was about to proceed on her 
voyage to cruise among the islands of the Pacific, the 
second officer disappeared mysteriously, and Coquimbo 
was searched in vain for him. Tite was accordingly 
promoted to fill his place. The crew had great confi- 
dence in him, for he had shown himself not only the 
best sailor on hoard, hut had exhibited in cases of great 
peril such quickness and courage as are necessary to 
the highest standard of seamanship. Hence it was 
that the change, while it did not dispel the gloom 
occasioned by the second officer's mysterious disappear- 
ance, gave satisfaction to all on hoard, except, perhaps, 
Mr. Higgins, the first officer, who had almost from the 
day of leaving New York regarded Tite with a feeling 
of undisguised jealousy. 

The lucky old ship Pacific, with her famous old 
whale-killing captain, had made a bad voyage of it 
this time. 


194 


AN UNLUCKY VOYAGE. 


195 


Fifteen months had passed since she took her de- 
parture off the Highlands of New York, and now she 
had just weighed anchor, and with her canvas spread 
once more was bidding good bye to Coquimbo, aed pro- 
ceeding to cruise among the islands of the South Sea. 

Weeks passed and still the old ship tumbled and 
rolled about on the placid waters of the Pacific, now 
touching at a port to get news of the whaling fleet, 
now anchoring off some island to have a talk or trade 
with the natives. But all the news the sturdy old 
captain could get was bad. 

Bad luck had followed the whaling fleet through the 
Pacific that year. The ‘habits of the whale in chang- 
ing his locality at certain periods are somewhat curious, 
and afford old sailors a subject for the most wild and 
unreasonable stories. The sailors, yielding to their 
superstitions, attributed the scarcity of whales to the 
appearance of a number of mermaids, whom the natives 
on various islands had reported, and the sailors sin- 
cerely believed, had been seen and heard singing in 
various parts of the Pacific that year, and under very 
suspicious circumstances. The sailors had also a super- 
stition that 'whales entertain so great a dislike for 
mermaids as to proceed to visit their friends and rela- 
tives in another sea as soon as they made their appear- 
ance. 

Captain Price Bottom declared he was too old a 
whale-killer to put any faith in the story of the mer- 
maids. Whales, he said, had sense and pluck, and 
were not to be frightened away by such fish as mer- 
maids. He had his deck cleared, his gear put in order, 
his boats’ crews told off, and officers and men kept 
practising and made familiar with their duties. Still 
not a whale showed his head, or blew a challenge to 


196 


THE VO NT TOODLEBURGS. 


put their skill in practice. The bluff old captain began 
to feel at last that luck had left him. Morning after 
morning he would loom up in the companion way 
before the crew was up, gaze up at the lookout aloft, 
ask the usual questions concerning the night's sailing, 
then shake his head despondingly . 

“ Fifteen months -out — sixteen months out — and not 
a whale killed !” he would say. Then taking the glass 
he would make a turn or two of the quarter-deck, look- 
ing here and looking there, as if to satisfy himself that 
there was nothing between his ship and the horizon. 
Then lowering his glass he would nod his head affirm- 
atively, and say: “ Mermaids ain't got nothin' at all 
to do with it. Somebody’s been a tellin' them whales 
I was cornin’. Whales has got more sense some years 
than other years. Know when there's harpoons about 
as well as any of us, and keeps at a comfortable dis- 
tance.” 

One morning he appeared on deck in a more serious 
mood than usual. Tite was officer of the watch that 
morning, and the old captain, after pacing up and 
down the deck several times, apparently in deep study, 
approached him with his hand extended. 

“When I give a young man like you my hand, 1 
gives him my heart, too. If there’s a man aboard ol 
this ship what I respect, it's you, Mr. Toodleburg. 
Yes, sir, I respect you for your mother’s sake, as well 
as for your worth as a sailor and a man.” And he 
shook Tite cordially by the hand, and spoke with such 
an emphasis. 

Then setting his glass down on the binnacle, he took 
Tite by the arm, and, whispering something in his ear, 
led him to the taffrail, as if he had something of im- 
portance to communicate in private. 


AN UNLUCKY VOYAGE. 


197 


ci You have a sweetheart at home, I take it, Mr. 
Toodleburg ?” he said, inquiringly, and assuming a 
very serious manner. “ Every young man like you 
should have a sweetheart at home. Somebody to think 
about. Somebody to cheer one up. Them we leaves 
at home is all men like you and me go through these 
hardships and disappointments for.” 

Tite blushed and smiled, and made an evasive reply. 

“No use denying it, my hearty,” he resumed. 
“Knew ye had a sweetheart tliinkin' of ye at home. 
Show her by yer conduct while yer away that yer 
worthy of her when yer get home. My sweetheart, 
God bless her ! is all the sunlight I have in a voyage 
of this kind. My little wife is my sweetheart, she is, 
Mr. Toodleburg. She an’ the two little angels are the 
sunlight of my heart. There ain't nobody sails the 
sea has a trimmer little craft of a sweetheart nor I 
have.” He paused for a minute, as if to collect his 
distracted thoughts. “ The man that would bring 
trouble to her door while I'm away — he would' nt he a 
man, Mr. Toodleburg,” he resumed, still preserving a 
serious countenance. “ Had an ugly dream last night. 
That’s what troubles me. Anything happens to me, 
Mr. Toodleburg, you’re the man I looks to as a friend 
to my little sweetheart and them two angels at home.” 

Tite assured him that he would do as he desired, and 
at the same time tried to dispel from his mind the 
gloomy forebodings impressed on it by the dream. 

“Never had an ugly dream of that kind that it 
did'nt foretell somethin' had, Mr. Toodleburg,” he 
replied to a remark made by Tite, that it was not 
wise to give one's self uneasiness concerning dreams. 
“ There's sharks a' land as well as sharks a' sea. Keep 
that in your mind, my hearty. And I dreamed that 


198 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


my time had come, and my poor little sweetheart at 
home was surrounded by sharks ready to devour her. 
Made my blood boil, it did. Waked up feelin’ for a 
harpoon to throw among 'em. My ghost’ll haunt the 
man that wrongs my little sweetheart. 

“ That’s not all, my hearty. Somebody’s brought . 
bad luck aboard — that’s certain. A voyage begun in 
bad luck, as this ere voyage has been, never ends in 
good luck. But you’re young, and so cheer up. Look 
ahead, and never let present misfortunes discourage you. 

“England honors Scoresby to this day. And Scoresby 
was successful after two voyages that ruined his owners. 
As to them mermaids frightening away the whales, it’s 
all a superstition. The natives on Queen Charlotte’s 
island have a superstition that there is an island down 
north of them, called No Man’s island — for no man, as 
they say, was ever seen on it — where there is a subter- 
ranean sea peopled by these mermaids ; and that these 
mermaids have built them a palace, where they hold 
theii revels and do all sorts of strange things, even to 
decoying navigators into it. That story won’t do. 
Don’t believe a word of it, Mr. Toodleburg.” 

That morning about ten o’clock the lookout aloft 
called, “ Whale, 0 !” The glad announcement sent a 
thrill of joy over every one on board. The crew turned 
out with cheerful faces, and every one looked eagerly 
in the direction pointed to by the man aloft. 

“Where away?” was the quick enquiry from the 
x deck. 

“Off the larboard how — three miles. There he 
blows I” was the response. 

A light breeze was blowing, and the ship was howl- 
ing off four knots, with her port tacks aboard. There 
was no one on board more elated at the prospect than 


AN UNLUCKY VOYAGE. 


199 


the sturdy old captain. Seizing his glass he looked for 
a moment in the direction indicated. 

u There he is!” he exclaimed, lowering his glass. 
“ Clear away the boats and bear away for him, my 
hearties.” 

The lashings were cast away, the davit-tackle falls 
overhauled, and a larboard and starboard boat was 
launched and manned, and in a few minutes they were 
dashing over the waves, the men pulling that steady, 
strong, and even stroke which gives such propelling 
force to the whaleman’s oar. The men on board 
cheered, and their cheers seemed to quicken the action 
of the boatmen. The sturdy old captain watched their 
progress through his glass, every few minutes giving 
expression to his feelings in words of hope and encour- 
agement. 

“An old coaster, that whale is — thirty, yes, nearly 
forty barrels there. Got pluck, too, that whale has. 
Can always tell when a whale’s got pluck. Them old 
ones are ugly customers when they gets their pluck 
up,” he would say, nodding his head decidedly and 
encouragingly. 

The ship was now kept away a point or two, and 
proceeded under easy sail. There was something 
thrilling in the scene, and every heart on hoard beat 
with excitement as the boats went swiftly on, one com- 
manded by the first officer, the other by Tite. Neither 
of these two young men had seen a whale killed ; hut 
there were in the boats old whalemen, who had success- 
fully thrown both harpoon and lance. 

The huge monster could now be seen clearly with 
the naked eye by those on the ship’s deck, sporting 
lazily on the surface, his bright black sides now falling, 
now rising, like the hull of some water-logged ship, 


200 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


and throwing up thin white volumes of spray, over 
which the sun's rays reflected with singular brilliancy. 
Nearer and nearer the boats approached the monster, 
the first officer's boat being a little ahead. Now the 
stern boat ceased pulling, and the men laid on their 
oars. Then the other slackened her speed, and began 
pulling with cautious and quiet stroke. The lookout 
announced that the head boat had made the whale, and 
the men climbed the ship’s rigging to witness the 
struggle. They were doomed to temporary disappoint- 
ment, however, for the whale, suddenly discovering his 
pursuers, made a vault and a plunge, tossed the sea 
into commotion, and disappeared. 

“ That’s what comes of sendin’ an amateur after an 
old whale,” said the captain, thrusting his hands deep 
into his nether pockets, shrugging his shoulders, and 
pacing nervously up and down the deck. 

A signal was now made from the ship directing the 
boats what course to keep, for experience had taught 
the old captain what course the whale would take, and 
where he would be most likely to appear again. It 
was nearly half an hour before the monster lifted his 
huge, dripping sides above the surface again, but so 
near the first officer’s boat that a harpoon was let go. 
They had fastened to him, and the scene became more 
exciting. 

“Bad strike,” said the captain, shaking his head 
and stamping his feet. “ That whale’s going to die 
hard.” The harpoon, in short, had fallen weak, had 
failed to touch a vital part, and had made one of those 
wounds which excite a whale to attack his pursuers. 

The word “astern” was given as soon as the harpoon 
was thrown. The monster threw up a thin wreath of 
slightly discolored spray, and set off at a velocity of 


AN UNLUCKY VOYAGE. 


201 


speed almost incredible. Away he went, the boat 
following in his wake and cutting the water like a 
thing of life — the boat-steerer and line-tender carefully 
watching every movement, for the lives of all on 
board depended on their vigilance. The whale struck 
his course directly across the ship’s bow, less than a 
mile away. The boat Tite commanded followed, with 
all the strength her crew could put on their oars. 

It was easy to read in the captain’s manner, how- 
ever, that all was not going well with the boats. He 
quickly ordered a third boat launched, supplied with 
gear, and the best oarsmen on board to hold themselves 
ready to man it. 

“ Thar’ll be a fight when that ar whale rises,” he 
muttered, rather than spoke. “ Wants a lance in the 
right place, and a man to put it there. Mr. Higgins 
ain’t the man for that work.” 

The boat’s speed began to slacken. The sharp, whiz- 
zing sound, caused by the rapid paying-out of the line 
and its great tension, gradually subsided. It was 
evident the whale was coming up to blow, perhaps 
change his course, perhaps attack his assailants. He 
had crossed the ship’s course, and the head boat was 
nearly two miles off the starboard bow, the stern boat 
rapidly coming up. 

The water just ahead of the boat began to quiver 
and curl into eddies, then the huge monster lifted 
himself, as it were, high above the surface, struck his 
flukes, and lashed the sea into a foam. This lasted for 
several minutes, the boat pulling for him with all the 
strength of her oarsmen. But when nearly alongside 
of the whale she suddenly slackened her speed, then 
stopped, then went “ astern hard.” It was evident to 
those on board the ship that something was wrong, for 


202 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


the boat seemed to be manoeuvring more for her own 
safety than to gain a position from which a lance could 
be hurled with effect. 

“ Too many landsmen in that boat!” said the old 
captain, who had been carefully watching every move- 
ment through his glass ; now hoping, now fearing. He 
shook his head doubtingly, and paced the deck ner- 
vously for several minutes. Then, as if there was some- 
thing it was necessary for him to set right, he turned 
to the officer of the watch, and ordered him to have the 
third boat manned. In another minute he was stand- 
ing in the bow, lance in hand. 

“Pull away for him, my hearty bullies,” he said; 
and the men plied their oars, and away the boat went, 
skimming over the water like a sea-bird. There was 
resolution and courage depicted in every feature of that 
bronzed face. 

The whale had now turned and was proceeding with 
open jaws to attack the first officer’s boat. Another 
minute and he would have destroyed it, and perhaps 
all on board. Just at that moment Tite’s boat came 
up, and with a quick, bold, and dexterous movement, 
rounded close under the whale’s off side, and with a 
strong arm sent a lance home. That lance made a 
deep and fatal wound. The enraged monster forgot in 
a moment the object he was in pursuit of, threw up a 
volume of deep red spray, then making a desperate 
plunge, disappeared. He had no intention of giving 
up the battle, however. He merely sought relief for 
his wounds in deep water. The boats now waited and 
watched for the result. After waiting nearly twenty 
minutes the monster rose again, directly ahead ol 
the captain’s boat, and so near as to dash the spray 
into it. 


AN UNLUCKY VOYAGE. 


203 


“ Take that!” said the old captain; u that iron'll 
stop your fightin'.” And he hurled his lance, with 
quick and deadly aim, giving an order at the same 
time to “ astern hard.” But before stern way could he 
got on the boat, the infuriated monster made a sudden 
turn, dashed upon and stove it into fragments. 

The famous old whale-killer had hurled his last 
lance, had killed his last whale. The dying monster, 
in making a last struggle with his enemies, had struck 
the captain with his fluke, and he sunk never to rise 
again. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

dunman’s cave. 

Flags hung at half mast the rest of that day, and 
minute guns were fired at sunset. And there was some- 
thing sad and solemn in the dull, booming sound as it 
echoed and reechoed over that broad and mysterious 
sea. And when night came, and drew a dark curtain 
around the ship, and her timbers murmured and com- 
plained, and every sail stood out in shadow against the 
clear sky, and the surface of the water seemed alive 
with sprites, flitting and dancing here and there, groups 
of sorrowing men were seen gathered about the decks, 
giving expression to their grief at the loss of their old 
captain. 

“God bless him ! He was good to us all. There'll 
be no more whales to kill where he has gone." These 
were the words of regret that fell from lips that rarely 
invoked a prayer. 

At midnight, when the bells had struck, the crew 
gathered together on the forward deck, and while one 
held a lamp another read the Episcopal service for the 
burial of the dead. And as the light at times reflected 
each figure of the group, giving it a phantom-like 
appearance, the picture presented was sad and impres- 
sive — such as can only be seen at sea, where each sound 
calls up some memory, and the sailor fancies he can 
see the spirit of some departed friend in every flitting 
shadow. 

Officers and men alike began to feel how great was 

their loss. They were alone, as it were, on this broad 
m 


dtjnman's cave. 


205 


and mysterious ocean, and they had lost that odd old 
man who was their guiding spirit, and who never failed 
them as friend and protector. All through that night 
the men watched and strained their eyes in every 
direction, expecting to see the old sailor rise on some 
crest ; and more than one sailor that night cheered his 
drooping feelings with the firm belief that some myste- 
rious agency would give them back the old captain 
before morning. 

There was no one on that ship, however, who felt the 
loss more seriously than Tite. It seemed to change all 
his prospects, to throw a shadow over his future. He 
paced the deck, silent and thoughtful, until long after 
midnight. To him the captain had been not only a 
friend, but a father. Between them there had grown 
up the strongest of attachments. Tite had looked for- 
ward to the time when this odd old man would have 
lifted him into the confidence of his owners, and per- 
haps secured his future prosperity. 

All his hopes and joys seemed blasted now. Love, 
too, had been playing its bewitching part ; amidst all 
these drawbacks and disappointments, love had been 
prompting his ambition with her dreams of a happy 
future. Mattie’s image, so bright, so beautiful, had 
been with him everywhere, prompting his thoughts 
and actions as only the woman you love can, and mak- 
ing him more ambitious to secure that golden future 
his fancy had pictured. Never before had his courage 
failed him. No matter what the danger, he had felt 
that she was at his side, encouraging him. Now the 
gloomy thought of returning home penniless, with, 
indeed, nothing but his adventures and misfortunes to 
offer her and his aged parents, began to prey upon his 
mind, to make him sad and despondent. Then the 


206 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


advice so often given him by the old captain, never to 
get discouraged, not even under the most adverse cir- 
cumstances, and that the brightest day was sure to fol- 
low the darkest night, would cheer him up. 

When the whale had been taken aboard, the ship, 
under her new commander, Mr. Higgins, stood away 
into the North Pacific, where she cruised along the 
land, in the direction of Behring’s Straits, for several 
weeks. The prospect not seeming to brighten much, 
Mr. Higgins thought he would try an experiment in 
what he called u high latitudes,” and to that end 
headed the ship for the Auckland Islands. Now the 
crew had hut little respect for their new commander, 
and no confidence whatever in his skill as a navigator. 

After proceeding in this direction for ten days, one 
morning about four o’clock the lookout called the atten- 
tion of the officer of the watch to strange sounds heard 
close ahead. It resembled the dull, sluggish sound of 
breakers on shore during a calm. The sounds became 
louder and seemed to he approaching the ship, hut as 
her reckoning gave no land anywhere near, the cause 
of the sounds began to excite great alarm. The cap- 
tain was called and the crew turned out, and an effort 
made to put the ship on the other tack, hut it was of 
no avail. An almost dead calm prevailed, and the ship 
refused to obey her helm. In short, the ship was being 
carried rapidly forward in the grasp of a strong under- 
current. A heavy fog hung like a pall overhead, en- 
veloping the ship’s royals and top-gallant sails ; and 
as the noise increased a strange feeling of awe and fear 
came over the crew, exciting their superstitions to the 
highest pitch. 

As the ship went on the sounds began to resemble 
the dashing and surging of a heavy body of water 


dunman’s cave. 


207 


forced by a strong tide through a narrow gorge. Still 
nothing could be seen of land, which increased the 
strange sensations produced by so singular a phenome- 
non. Nothing either crew or officers could do would 
improve the situation, for in the ship’s condition they 
were as helpless as children. The lead was cast, and 
sixty fathoms called. It was now evident that there 
was land close by. But the trail of the line only 
showed the more clearly that the ship was at the mercy 
of some rapid and dangerous current, perhaps being 
drawn into some whirlpool. Now the fog seemed to lift, 
and long lines of light were seen ahead, but it was only 
to be succeeded by greater darkness. Then the sounds 
began to change and vary; and while what seemed voices 
were heard singing and sighing overhead, the deep 
rush and roll of waters below had a strange and bewil- 
dering effect on the feelings. Now the moon seemed 
to be rising through the fog ahead, and a pale, white 
light gleamed for a few seconds, then disappeared, and 
all was dark again. And as the ship advanced, the 
bold outline of a high and nearly perpendicular bluff 
revealed itself above the fog, and had the appearance 
of hanging directly over the ship. There was no mis- 
taking the danger now. In a few minutes more the 
ship was between walls of rock three hundred feet high, 
drifting swiftly through a narrow channel of deep and 
agitated water into a dark and dangerous cavern. 

The ship passed in under full sail ; the atmosphere 
changed and became singularly oppressive ; the very 
blood chilled; fear seized on all on board, and men 
who a short time before were full of courage and 
strength now became as helpless as children. The cur- 
rent was less rapid inside, but the noise increased and 
became even more bewildering ; while the barometer 


208 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


would rise and fall quickly, and the compasses became 
agitated under the influence of some strong mag- 
netic disorder. Every few minutes deep and rum- 
bling sounds would break in the distance, roll along 
the cavern, and echo and reecho through the great 
arches overhead. And these would be succeeded by 
soft, flute-like voices, mingling in chorus. The effect 
of this, in so dark and dungeon-like a place, where 
the mighty hand of Nature had performed one of her 
wildest freaks, was bewildering in the extreme, and 
gave wing to the strangest fancies. Hardly a word 
was spoken ; not a brace manned, nor a sheet touched. 
The ship moved along as if directed by some unseen 
hand, for there was no wind in that deep, dark cavern. 
Then the water became broken, and the surface check- 
ered with phosphoric lights, flitting and dancing, like 
so many sprites on a revel. The arch overhead became 
covered with a pale light, which seemed to struggle 
against the darkness ; then stars, or what appeared to 
be stars, were seen, as through a mist. Then they 
would suddenly change into every variety of color, and 
reveal the existence of massive columns of‘ basaltic rock 
supporting the arch. Still the distracting sounds were 
heard, but no order was given concerning the ship, 
scarcely a word exchanged between the men. They 
felt that they were drifting into some unknown sea, 
perhaps some place of enchantment, where death was 
certain, and from whence nothing more would ever be 
heard of them. 

Could this be the mermaid’s retreat of which the 
old captain had spoken, and of which the natives on 
Queen Charlotte’s Island had such a strange supersti- 
tion? Tite thought to himself. All the pleasant asso- 
ciations of home, all that he loved there, and all that 


dunman’s cave. 


209 


he had hoped for, now rose up in his mind like a sweet 
and beautiful dream, only to be overshadowed by the 
terrible thoughts this strange and gloomy place had 
impressed upon him. There was no hope for him now; 
he felt that he should never enjoy those scenes again. 
But what was that to the anguish of his poor old 
parents, who would linger on week after week, month 
after month, and year after year, wondering and wait- 
ing in vain for some news of him, and dying of hope 
deferred. 

While he was thus musing a pale, aurora-like light 
broke in the distance, directly ahead of the ship. Now 
it opened gently, now shut again. Again it glimmered 
and gradually expanded until the whole cavern became 
aglow with light, and presented a scene of such en- 
chanting beauty that all on board were spell-bound 
with admiration. Massive columns, grand and im- 
pressive, rose on every side to the very roof, and reflected 
all the colors of the rainbow. And through them the 
gallant old ship continued to sail, like a phantom. 

This bright, bewitching scene continued for about 
fifteen minutes, when the light gradually died away, 
and all became dark and solemn. Then deep, plung- 
ing sounds of falling water indicated with startling 
effect that the ship was approaching a mighty cataract, 
down which she must soon plunge to her destruction. 
These sounds, made more terrible by the darkness, 
were like death-knells, calling the men to prepare to 
meet their doom. 

And while all on board were contemplating these 
sounds, the ship suddenly careened a-starboard, a harsh, 
grating noise was heard overhead, and quantities of 
broken crystallites began falling on deck. This was 
followed by a crashing sound, and the ship righted. 


210 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


The topmasts had fouled, and one after another were 
carried away and now hung, a dangerous wreck. 
Then her gib-boom came in contact with one of the 
columns, and met the same fate. The ship now swung 
round and struck with a violent shock on a sunken rock, 
and almost simultaneously her mainmast went by the 
board, she began to fill and settle down, and soon be- 
came a forlorn wreck. A short consultation was held 
between the officers and men as to what was best to 
be done. There was, however, no alternative but to 
take to the boats, and make the best effort possible to 
save life. There was no time to lose. Five boats were 
quickly launched, and manned, and supplied with such 
provisions and water as could be procured in the hurry 
of the moment. An officer took command of each boat, 
and Tite managed to secure six of the best oarsmen on 
board. There was no excitement, no disorder. Every- 
thing was done with as much order and regularity as 
if nothing had occurred to interrupt discipline. 

And now when the five boats were ready, and the 
order given to “ pull a^ay,” each man seemed to pause 
and take a last fond look at the old ship, as if a linger- 
ing affection caused him to part from her with reluc- 
tance. And as they stood taking this last look, the. 
light again broke forth, giving to the strange scene a 
weird and bewildering effect. 

The boats now pulled away, Tite’s boat taking the 
lead. They had agreed to keep together as much as 
possible, (and to that end made signals at short inter- 
vals, (gain the ocean and seek relief along the shore. 
Darkness soon shut in again, however, and the noises 
were so bewildering that the signals from the boats 
could not be understood, and they separated never to 
meet again. 


dunman’s cave. 


211 


Wo must now follow tlie fortunes of the boat com- 
manded by Tite. He had been fortunate enough to 
secure a compass, which, though it did him little good 
while in the cave, would be of great assistance to him 
outside. The question as to how the entrance of the 
cave bore, and the surest way of gaining it, was of 
most importance now. Tite estimated that they were 
at least ten miles from it, aud that by steering directly 
against the current, they could not fail to make it. 
After pulling steadily for four hours, stopping only 
once to refresh themselves, they came in sight of the 
entrance, and saw daylight beyond. A feeling of joy 
now came over the men, and three hearty cheers were 
given that echoed curiously through the arches over- 
head. Still there was another and serious obstacle to 
contend with. A boar, or tidal wave, had made at the 
entrance, and was rushing in with a roaring noise and 
such force that the boat could not have stemmed it for 
a minute. It was therefore, necessary to seek safety 
behind some high rocks on one side of the entrance, and 
wait a change in -the tide. After waiting in this posi- 
tion for nearly an hour they again put out, and headed 
for the entrance. A rapid current was still setting in, 
and the men had to pull with all their strength to stem 
it and gain the ocean. 

When they had gained the ocean they felt as if they 
had been suddenly transferred to another world. After 
waiting several hours, and none of the other boats 
making their appearance, Tite headed his boat west 
and stood down the coast, close in shore, in the hope of 
finding a safe landing place, perhaps a friendly settle- 
ment. An almost perpendicular bluff of rocks, more 
than two hundred feet high, forming a walled coast, 
such as is seen in the Bay of Fuudy, and at the foot 


212 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


of which the sea dashed and broke, rendering it 
impossible to make a landing, extended as far as the 
eye could reach. Along this frowning coast the boat 
swept until nightfall; but not a human being was seen, 
nor a place where they could land safely discovered. 

Three days and three nights they coasted along this 
bold sea-wall, and now their provisions and water had 
given out, and such was their suffering from thirst, 
hunger, and cold, that two of the crew died from sheer 
exhaustion. Indeed, it was only extraordinary ex- 
ertion on the part of Tite, and his manner of encour- 
aging the others, that kept them from giving up in 
despair. Early on the morning of the fourth day an 
indentation in the land was discovered, sloping into a 
quiet little valley, a place of welcome to the weary, 
through which a stream of water winded down into the 
sea. Each heart now heat high with joy. Deliverance 
had come at last. The boat’s head was directed toward 
the beach, but the wind had freshened, and a heavy 
surf was beating on shore, and unless the boat was 
skilfully handled there was great danger of swamping. 
Still the boat was kept on, and in less than half an 
hour from the time the beach was discovered the boat 
was plunging through the breakers. 

On entering the surf an immense roller overtook the 
boat, lifted her high up on its crest, and, owing to some 
unskilful management, she was capsized. The crew were 
tossed into the boiling surf, and left to struggle with the 
receding waves for their lives. Tite’s first thought was 
to secure the boat, and seizing hold of the line he made 
a desperate effort to gain the beach, and was successful, 
as were two of the men. The others were too weak to 
make much of a resistance, and were carried away by 
the undercurrent, and nothing more was seen of them. 


CHAPTEK XXVII. 


OLD DUNMAN AND THE PIRATE’ S TREASURE. 

With only the drenched clothes they stood in, no 
means of lighting a fire, and death from starvation 
staring them in the face, these three shipwrecked men 
stood upon the beach of this strange island, still hop- 
ing and wondering what was to be the next change in 
their condition . Was the island inhabited ? By whom ? 
What was the character of the natives, and what sort 
of reception would they meet when found? These were 
the questions which engaged their thoughts as they 
stood on that lonely beach, hoping against hope, and 
every minute fancying some friendly sail heaving in 
sight to relieve them from their perilous position. 
After the darkest night comes the brightest day. This 
was ever uppermost in Tite’s mind, and he endeavored 
to impress its teachings on the minds of his compan- 
ions, who were fast yielding to their fears, and would 
have given up in despair had not his stronger resolution 
encouraged them still to hope for deliverance. 

There was an abundance of small shell-fish along the 
coast, and on these they subsisted. It was agreed to 
remain near the boat during the day, as a precaution 
against an attack from the natives, who might have seen 
them approach the coast, and perhaps he watching their 
movements near by. But the day passed and not a 
human being was seen. At nightfall a couple of goats 
and a pig, and some fowl that appeared to be keeping 
them company, emerged from a thicket on a hillside, 


214 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


descended into a valley or ravine, and drank in the 
brook. The sight of these animals tilled the hearts of 
the shipwrecked men with joy. It was to them a proof 
of civilization. New hopes, new joys, new strength came 
with the sight of these animals ; and they advanced 
cautiously toward them. But the animals were shy, 
and scampered away up the hill at the first sight of 
the strangers. 

There was a high hill near by, and, encouraged by 
the sight of these animals, Tite started off just at dusk 
to ascend it and survey the surrounding country, leav- 
ing his comrades on the beach to guard the boat. It 
was quite dark when Tite reached the top, but the 
stars were out, and the atmosphere was clear. Not a 
habitation was to be seen, nothing but a wild, unbroken 
forest as far as the eye could reach. He watched there 
for an hour or more, his eyes quickened by anxiety, 
and his mind becoming more and more excited, until 
his fancy pictured in every shadow some moving object. 
Then, as his eye traced along down the deep ravine, 
he discovered, or rather thought he discovered, a pale 
wreath of smoke curling lazily upward, not more than 
a mile from where his comrades lay. What at first 
seemed only a fancy, now became a reality, for the 
smoke increased in volume, and indicated with cer- 
tainty a habitation of some kind. 

Descending the hill as quickly as he could, he found 
the two men fast asleep, overcome with fatigue and ex- 
citement, and it was with great difficulty that he could 
awake them. When, however, he told them what he 
had discovered, their hearts filled with joy, and they 
sprang to their feet ready to follow him. Still they 
entertained a lurking fear that the smoke might mark 
the bivouac of some savages who had watched their 


OLD DUNMAN AND THE PIRATE'S TREASURE. 215 

movements during the day, and lighted this fire to 
cook the evening meal. 

They followed the stream about two miles up the 
ravine, picking their way over rocks and through a 
thick wood, until they came to a little gurgling brook, 
cutting its way through a deep dell running at right 
angles with the ravine. Here they rested for a short 
time, and carefully surveyed the scene, excited by 
strange thoughts. A light suddenly flashed from the 
opposite hank, not more than forty yards ahead. This 
evidently marked the object of their search. Then 
those familiar sounds made by goats, fowls, and pigs 
were heard. Crossing the dell they advanced cauti- 
ously in the direction of the light. They had not gone 
far, however, when an opening in the woods was dis- 
covered, in the centre of which a small, rude cabin, built 
of stones and mud, stood. A bright fire was burning 
inside, smoke was issuing from the rude chimney, and 
the light shining through two square openings in the 
sides, was reflecting curiously over the scene outside. 

Again the three men halted, and stood viewing the 
scene in silence, now hoping, now fearing, now wonder- 
ing what sort of beings inhabited this strange place. 
Still the domestic animals kept up those noises, so 
familiar to Tite’s ear when at home. And these were 
broken at intervals by what seemed the barking of a 
wolf. Now a strange and shadowy figure passed and 
repassed in the cabin, its uncouth form reflecting every 
few seconds in the light. Should they advance, enter 
the cabin, and see who this strange being was, or 
return to the beach and wait until morning ? This 
was the question which occupied their thoughts now. 
Impelled as well, perhaps, by anxiety as necessity, Tite 
resolved to push on to the very door. Leaving the 


216 


THE YOjST TOODLEBURGS. 


men with orders to follow him at a short distance, he 
proceeded on cautiously until he reached the edge of 
the opening in which the cahin stood. 

He was now within a few paces of the door, when 
the fowls, which seemed to abound in the vicinity, dis- 
covering him, sounded the alarm. The cabin door now 
opened, and there stood, in the shadow of the light, 
the figure of an old man bent with age, and dressed in 
the skin of a wolf, the long fur of which gave him 
more the appearance of an animal than a human being. 
His face was like colored parchment, his mouth and 
cheeks wrinkled and sunken, his eyes small, black and 
bright, his long, white hair and flowing beard, his bony 
hands, which he raised every few moments and held 
over his long white eyelashes, as a shield to his sight, 
gave him a strange and witch-like appearance. 

There the two men, the figure in the door and 
Tite, stood for several minutes gazing in silence, hut 
with a look of astonishment, at each other. The ani- 
mals and fowls had gathered in a group about the old 
man, alarmed at the sight of a stranger. At length 
a thin, shrill voice broke the silence by enquiring: 
“Who is it that comes here to disturb my peace? ” 

“We are friends,” replied Tite, “shipwrecked sailors, 
in search of shelter and food.” 

“ Heaven pity you, and forgive me,” returned the old 
man, his eyes beaming brighter and his whole manner 
becoming more earnest. ‘ £ Heaven forgive me, you shall 
have both, and he welcome in my palace. Heaven for- 
give me, for this is my palace and I am king of this 
island. Come in, and such as I have you shall share 
with me.” And he advanced, took Tite by the hand, 
and led him into his cabin, the two men following. 
Spreading seal and wolf skins on the floor, he hid them 


OLD DUNMAN AND TIIE PIRATE’S TREASURE. 217 

be seated, while lie prepared food for their supper. 
His motion was a shuffle rather than a walk, and he 
moved about the cabin more like an animal than a 
human being. He seemed to have an abundant supply 
of dried fish, fowl, and fruit; of vegetables and roots, 
from which he made a beverage that filled the place 
of coffee. And with these and some goat's milk he 
soon set before them a supper, saying as he invited them 
to partake, 11 Heaven forgive me for all my sins, and 
they are many. Your are countrymen of my own, and 
speak the same language. Ah, I had almost forgotten 
it, as the world has forgotten me. How it all comes 
back, and makes me feel happy. I am old, very old 
now. Heaven forgive me. There will be no more of 
poor old George D unman soon. When he dies he will 
die with great sins on his head. If sin can be washed 
out with sorrow, Heaven knows I have had sorrow 
enough." He advanced towards Tite, and laying his 
hand gently on his shoulder, looked earnestly and 
intently into his face : “ you are young, very young," 
he said, u crime has made no wrinkles in your face yet. 
Mine is full of age and crime, and a heart filled with 
remorse, have burned their deep seals into mine. Look 
you, young man," and he pointed to his eyes, “ these 
eyes were not made to weep. But this poor heart of 
mine is crushed with its crimes." Here he pressed his 
right hand to his heart, and raised his eyes upwards, 
as if imploring Heaven's forgiveness in silence. 

This continued invoking Heaven's forgiveness excited 
Tite’s curiosity to know something of the old man's 
strange and wonderful history, for he already began to 
feel that there was a terrible crime at the bottom of it. 
When they had partaken of supper and were all seated 
around the fire on their skins, and nothing but the 


218 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


music of the brook was heard outside, the old man 
requested Tite to give him an account of his voyage, 
together with the place and manner of their shipwreck. 
Tite was glad to comply with the old man’s request, 
for it afforded him an excellent excuse for making a 
similar one. 

The reader has already been made familiar with 
Tite’s unfortunate voyage, hence it will not he neces- 
sary to repeat it. The recital interested the old man 
deeply, and when he had reached that part which de- 
scribed their troubles in the cave, the old man’s eyes 
sparkled, and his whole nature seemed to warm into 
enthusiasm. 

“ There’s where my ship lays, guns and all,” he said, 
pressing his hands on his knees. “ My men used to 
call this island ‘ No Man’s Island,’ and they named 
that place ‘The Cave of Enchantment.’ Then they 
named it after me. The natives on an island ten 
leagues from this have a queer superstition concerning 
it. They call it the devil’s last resting place, and 
assert that it is peopled by mermaids, who get honest 
navigators into it, and then destroy them. My ship 
lays there, guns and all,” he repeated. 

When Tite had finished his story, the old man began 
his by saying : “ Heaven forgive me, for I am a great 
sinner, and have much to answer for in the next world. 
I was born in Bristol, England. My father was a 
clergyman of the established church. I have no remem- 
brance of my mother, for she died when I was an infant. 
When I was fifteen years old I was sent to sea as a 
means of bettering my morals. I served first on board 
an Indiaman, made two voyages to China, and was 
wrecked on the coast of Malabar ; and when I got home 
my father or friends procured me the position of 


OLD DUNMAN AND THE PIRATE’S TREASURE. 219 

midshipman on board a man-of-war. I served on board 
the frigate Winchester, and other of His Majesty’s 
ships, I did, for fifteen years, and was only a midship- 
man at the end. Heaven forgive me for my sins. It 
seemed there was no promotion for me. I was then 
transferred to His Majesty’s packet service, and assigned 
to the brig Storm, carrying six guns, and the mails 
between Plymouth and the North American provinces. 
She was a beauty of a craft, that Storm was. She used 
to carry a crowd of canvas, and jump the seas like a 
sea-bird. I was four years first officer of that craft, 
was proud of what she could do, and the devil took 
advantage of my ambition, and created within me a 
longing to be in command of her, and make myself 
heroic by roaming unrestrained on the free sea. That 
feeling kept increasing until it become a passion with 
me. Then it was my misfortune to fall in love. Yes, 
love was a misfortune to me. I had courted and was 
engaged to the daughter of a rich old man who had 
made all his money in the West Indies, and still had 
plantations there. 

“ We were to be married on my return, after a voy- 
age to North America. But I returned to find her 
married to a young officer who had sailed companion 
with me on board man-a-war, and who had professed 
great friendship for me only to deceive me. He had 
professed to be my friend and confident ; and it was 
this that carried the knife of disappointment to my very 
heart. I was denied an interview with the woman I 
had loved, even worshipped. The man who had pro- 
fessed to be my friend now turned his back on me, and 
denied me even an explanation.” All the fire there 
was left in the old man now seemed to kindle into a 


220 


THE von Toodleburgs; 


blaze, and the fiercer elements of his nature took pos- 
session of him. 

“ To make the matter worse/’ he continued, “ our 
good, kind, and brave captain was relieved, transferred 
back to the navy, and this man, who had outraged my 
confidence and made my life wretched, appointed to 
fill his place. I resolved to be revenged. But how could 
it be got? How could I punish the man who had so 
wronged me without rebelling against my country, 
against God’s laws, and against society? The devil 
told me it could be done. 

“As it was not a question of conscience with me, in 
the frame of mind I was then in, there was no trouble 
in following the devil’s advice. I conceived a plan for 
sending this captain out of the world by the shortest 
road, seizing the ship, and roving unrestrained upon 
the free sea. It was soon found that there was enough 
on board to join the enterprise and share the spoils, and 
the plan was carried out when we were half voyage 
over. That was fifty years ago. I shall never forget 
the terrible struggle of that night, nor the bloody work 
that was done. Heaven forgive me. When I had got 
command I ran the Storm into the Caribbean Sea, landed 
all who were suspected, as well as such as more openly 
opposed the enterprise, on an island, and then put 
away for the Pacific via Cape Horn. When we got 

into the Pacific, we hoisted .” The old man paused 

suddenly and hung down his head. “ Heaven forgive 
me for my crimes,” he resumed, evidently in doubt 
about acknowledging the full force of his crimes. 

“ I may as well tell you it all— shake the load free 
from my conscience, and ask you to join me in invoking 
Heaven’s forgiveness. We hoisted the flag that sees an 
enemy in every other flag, and for three years the Storm 


OLD DUNMAN AXD TIIE PIRATE* S TREASURE. 221 

scourged these seas from Cape Horn to Sands’ Head. 
When ships, sent in pursuit of us, were searching along 
the west coast, we were making war on commerce on 
the coast of China. We had a name for every sea 
we entered, so as to make our pursuers think there 
was more than one vessel, and so divide their atten- 
tion. 

“Yes, for three years we scourged these seas, and 
made war on land as well as sea — capturing, plundering, 
murdering — yes, committing crimes that shame man- 
hood, and make me fear the vengence of a just God. 
And all for gold, gold, gold. And what good can gold 
do a man with a conscience haunted by crimes com- 
mitted in getting it ? Gold can do me no good ; hut 
man is a mean animal at best ; and you can so teach him 
in crime that he will commit the most revolting out of 
sheer wantonness. 

“We soon had more gold and jewels than we knew 
what to do with. Some of our men left us and went 
home with enough to make them rich for the rest of 
their lives. And we have buried enough on these 
islands to buy a city. Gold lost its charms with us, 
and crime became an excitement and an entertain- 
ment. 

“ We discovered this island while cruising from one 
ocean to the other, and found on it some sailors, whose 
vessel had been wrecked near where you landed. They 
had been seven years here, and it is to them we are 
indebted for these animals and fowls. They lived con- 
tented, for they had given up all hope of getting away, 
and are all dead now. We made this place a retreat, 
had a settlement here, after the wreck of the Storm in 
the cave, of forty men. They are all dead but me. I 
have been here forty years — nine of them passed alone ; 


222 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


and now my time has almost come. I took the name 
of George Dunman because I had disgraced that of my 
parents, and because I am an outlaw, and I want to die 
here and be forgotten. ” 

It was after midnight when the old man finished his 
story. His manner became nervous and restless, and 
it was evident there was something more he wanted to 
disclose, but hesitated to do. 

The strangers accepted the old man’s invitation, 
and took up their abode under his roof, finding plenty 
of food and kind treatment. But they soon became 
weary of so monotonous a life, and longing for some 
means of reaching their homes and civilization, would 
visit the coast nearly every day, in the hope of seeing 
some friendly sail and effecting their deliverance. This 
anxiety to get away on the part of his new friends so 
preyed on the old man’s mind that his strength began 
to fail fast, and at the end of two months it became 
evident that his sands of life had but a few more days 
to run. 

Two months passed, and the weather was becoming 
cold. The old man was up earlier than usual one 
morning ; still he seemed more feeble. He tottered 
about the cabin, his frame shook and trembled, and 
his whole system seemed to be under some new excite- 
ment. He had formed a strong attachment for Tite, 
whom he now approached with his hands extended. 
“Like you,” he said, grasping his hand firmly and 
looking up imploringly into his face, “I was young 
and handsome once. I am old and ugly now. Crime 
has written its ugly finger all over my face ; has 
thrust its poison into this poor heart of mine. Never 
let it lay one ugly finger on your face. Make yours 
a life of joy, so that you may die happy. Oh, these 


OLD DUNMAN AND THE PIRATE’S TREASURE. 223 

poor old gray hairs of mine, this head that has sinned 
so much.” And he raised his hard, bony hand to 
his head, and tossed the long white hair hack over his 
shoulders. 

“Come with me, come with me, young man,” he 
resumed, grasping Tite by the arm nervously and totter- 
ing to the door. When they got outside he whispered 
in his ear : “ You shall see where it is buried before I 
die. It has made my life wretched ; it may make yours 
happy.” He paused for a few seconds, and looking 
back, saw the two men standing watch at the door. 
“Come,” said he, beckoning to them, “you may as 
well come, too.” 

The men joined them, and when they had reached a 
spot about twenty rods from the cabin, they came to a 
square pile of stones, in a dark wood on the side of a 
hill. The old man sat down, and resting his arms on 
the stones, continued : “ Here, buried three feet below 
these stones, is gold and silver enough to make you all 
rich for life, and perhaps happy. ' Churches, convents, 
ships, and even life itself have contributed to it. All I 
now seek is peace in Heaven ; and yet I cannot get that 
with this gold, for it is the price of crime and death. 
Take it, take it ; and when my life of sorrow is ended, 
and these poor old bones shall move no more, divide it 
among yourselves ; and if Heaven sends you a deliver- 
ance from this lonely island, so live that it may bring 
you blessings, not curses, as it has done me.” 

Three days after what I have described in the above 
paragraph took place, Tite and the two sailors returned 
from the coast and were alarmed to find the cabin 
deserted. They waited for a short time, and then 
searched the woods in the vicinity, but could find 


224 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


nothing of the old man. The compasses were there, 
and his nautical instruments were still hanging on the 
wall, and the fire was nearly burned out. It had been 
his custom to have supper ready punctually when they 
returned. There was now a strange and mysterious 
stillness about the place. Even the fowls and the ani- 
mals seemed silent. 

On proceeding to the spot where the treasure was 
buried, they found the lifeless body of the old pirate. 
Old Dunman was dead, and lay there, with two of his 
pet goats nestling at his side. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


MR. GUSHER SUSTAINS HIS CHARACTER. 

“ Husband, dear; husband, dear/' said Mrs. Chapman, 
for I must again return to that lady, as she addressed 
her meek-looking little husband, “ how distressing it 
would be if Mr. Gusher should turn out not to be Mr. 
Gusher. He is such a nice young gentleman, and so 
popular in society. If he should turn out to be some- 
body else ? He has been such a favorite at our house, 
you know. I am sure I should never survive such a 
scandal as that. I am sure it would kill me — at least 
I should faint ; I feel as if I should faint now !” “ Pray 
don’t faint, my dear,” interrupted Chapman, submis- 
sively, as she handed him a letter she had received that 
day from Mr. Romer. And as she did so, she got up 
and paced the room in a state of great agitation. 

“ Never faint, my dear,” resumed Chapman, “until 
you know what you are fainting for. There is nothing 
to be made by fainting or borrowing trouble.” This 
conversation took place in the parlor one evening about 
three weeks after the ball. Chapman read and reread 
the letter, and then remained silent for several minutes. 
“Very strange, if true, my dear. But there maybe 
a personal difficulty at the bottom of it, and the young 
man has taken this method of damaging Mr. Gusher’s 
character.” 

Mr. Romer presented his compliments to Mrs. Chap- 
man, and, seeing the intimacy there was between her 
family and a person calling himself Philo Gusher, 


226 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


begged to inform her that the name of that individual 
was Louis Pinto, a notorious and well-known impostor, 
who had fled from Havana, where he had been several 
times imprisoned, to escape punishment for his crimes. 

“Anything but that, my dear husband. I am sure 
my pride would never survive it. And to happen just 
when society — yes, my dear, the very best of your Bow- 
ling Green people were beginning to leave cards. 
Another ball and we should have brought the best of 
them down.” 

“Another ball, my dear?” returned Chapman, with 
a sigh. “A ball a year ought to satisfy any respectable 
family.” Chapman was indeed becoming alarmed at 
his wife’s extravagance and weakness for society. Her 
worldliness he feared would bring him to grief ere long. 
The last ball had entailed the expense of new carpets ; 
and the young gentlemen had quite taken possession of 
the house, which they held until after daylight, and 
then went home in a very unsteady condition of the 
limbs. To make the matter worse, Bowles had been 
very much demoralized ever since, and now demanded 
another horse or his discharge. He had no complaint 
to make either about his pay or livery ; but to have it 
thrown up to him every day, and by all the coachmen 
in the neighborhood, that he was in the service of a 
one horse family, was more than his proud spirit could 
bear. 

Chapman held that dancing was not the profession 
of a gentleman, and that balls had done nothing for 
the great moral progress of the world. In fine, his 
mind had been engaged for some time back on some- 
thing more serious ; and he delighted his wife by telling 
her that he had been working up a great scheme for 
freeing and vitalizing all mankind. 


MR. GUSHER SUSTAINS IIIS CHARACTER. 22 ? 

The door hell rang, and in another minute Mr. 
Gusher, all serene and elegant, was ushered into the 
lady’s presence. Itfever was young gentleman more 
exquisitely upholstered. 

The lady extended her hand and received him cor- 
dially, saying she had been looking for him with 
unusual anxiety. 

“I am very glad you have come, Mr. Gusher,” 
interposed Chapman. “My dear wife is oppressed 
with a little matter I am sure you can relieve.” 

Mr. Gusher turned and thanked them for the high 
compliment thus paid him. “ You shall ze as I shall 
be so grateful for dis ’onar. And your daughter — she 
is well?” 

“ Very well — she was speaking of you kindly to-day. 
Here is something that reached me to-day, Mr. Gusher,” 
she resumed, rising from her chair and handing him 
the letter, with a dignity of manner quite uncommon 
to her : “I am sure you will pardon me, sir, but it con- 
tains matter which, as a friend of yours, I have taken 
the liberty to submit. I make it a rule to stand by a 
friend, you know.” 

Gusher took the letter and began reading it with an 
air of unconcern. Then breaking out into a hearty 
laugh, he replied: “Zis grand rascal as write dis let-tar 
is one par-tick-lar friend of mine 

“1 am sure, sir,” rejoined Mrs. Chapman, “he is 
an enemy of yours, and no friend. That you can ex- 
plain it all satisfactorily, I have no doubt.” 

“ Pardon, madam, pardon ; this grand rascal I call 
him one friend. Ze ’onar, madam, he is so much dear 
to me as my life. Oh yes, you shall zee as my ’onar 
and mine country is more dear to me zan my life. Zis 
grand rascal, he is my friend be-cause he do me zis 


228 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


injury so many times, and in ze end lie do me so much 
good. You shall zee zar was a lady. Zat lady, ze 
grand rascal as writes zis letter — it is so many years 
ago, as I almost forget — pays to her his compliment. 
Pardon, madam, zat lady prefar me to ze gentleman. 
Zen zat gentleman he pays to me his compliment like 
one grand rascal. He persecute my ’onar, and he make 
me so many friends ” 

“ Really, Mr. Gusher,” interrupted Mrs. Chapman, 
encouragingly, “then it is all the result of jealousy? 
I had a suspicion that there was something of the kind 
at the bottom of it.” „ 

“You shall zee, madam, it was be-cause ze lady 
prefar me. Zen I give ze grand rascal one pistol.” 
Here Mr. Gusher flourished his right hand. “You 
shall give me ze satisfaction as one gentleman he give 
to ze oser, I say. I gives to ze grand rascal one small 
sword. I say I shall have ze satisfaction one gentleman 
he will give to ze oser. No, madam, ze grand rascal, 
he is one small coward. He will not give me ze satis- 
faction. I shall show you as this grand rascal tells 
not one word of ze truth.” 

“I told you, my dear,” said Chapman, “that Mr. 
Gusher was a gentleman, and would explain it all to 
your satisfaction.” 

Mrs. Chapman expressed herself highly gratified at 
what she had heard. But in order to put the matter 
beyond question, and to prove to her entire satisfaction 
that he was not only an innocent, but a much injured 
gentleman, Gusher returned on the following day 
armed with a large number of letters, some of them 
sealed with great seals, the writers setting forth that 
they had known the young gentleman from his birth 


MR. GUSHER SUSTAINS HIS CHARACTER. 220 

up, that he was of irreproachable character, and his 
parents very distinguished people. 

Of course the Chapmans were entirely satisfied. 
Indeed Mr. Gusher so turned his guns on Mr. Romer 
as to make his position extremely uncomfortable. Both 
were guests at the old City Hotel, where Gusher was a 
great favorite with all the young ladies, and to whom 
he related his difficulty with Romer. In short, he so 
enlisted their sympathies in his behalf that they were 
ready to join him in ejecting Romer from the house as 
a slanderer. One said what a mean thing he must he 
to slander the handsome young foreigner in that way. 
A second tossed and turned her head aside when she 
met him, and pouted her pretty lips to let him know 
what she meant. A third refused to return his how, 
while a fourth gave him the cut direct. There was no 
standing up against such a storm of female indigna- 
tion as he now found blowing about his ears. He saw, 
also, that to have attempted to sustain his charges with 
proof would only he sheer folly. In short, there was 
nothing for the plain young outspoken American to 
do but surrender the field to the handsome young for- 
eigner and his female admirers, seek respectful treat- 
ment beyond the sound of their voices — and wait. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


CHANGED CIRCUMSTANCES. 

Oh, what a sweet charm there is in hope. How it 
beguiles the ambitious lover, causes him to build castles 
he finds crushed at last under his disappointments. 
How gently it lifts the drooping heart into ah higher 
realm of cheerfulness, still gilding and brightening 
the future. Day after day and week after week it 
carries the timid, desponding soul over its sea of trouble 
and disappointment, and pictures its love-dream in 
colors more and more beautiful. How it ensnares us, 
and then betrays us with its false visions of future 
bliss. It beguiles both you and me with its featly spun 
tales of fame and riches, which it weaves so ingeniously 
into its fascinating web. 

Such were the thoughts invading Mattie’s mind as 
she sat at the parlor window one morning, looking out 
over Bowling Green, contemplating the strange influ- 
ences by which she was surrounded, and wondering 
what the future would bring her. There was some- 
thing so earnest and yet so kindly in that pale, expres- 
sive face, and those soft blue eyes. 

She had counted the days since Tite sailed. It was 
nearly three years ago, and only one letter had been 
received from him. There was a report in circulation 
now that the ship, with all on board, was lost. And 
although this report could not be traced to any reliable 
source, it was credited by the owners, who had heard 
nothing of the ship since she left Coquimbo. 


CHANGED CIRCUMSTANCES. 


231 


The love Mattie bore Tite burned as brightly now as 
on the day when first it was kindled. She had thought 
of him always, dreamed of him, prayed for him, for she 
had the heart of a good and true woman. Yes, she had 
followed Tite in her love-dream through all the strange 
depths of that mysterious ocean. But the more she 
traced for him the more it seemed to deepen her dis- 
appointment. Still hope flattered her lingering love, 
cheered her, and brightened the star of her future. 
Hope came to cheer the heart that had longed for relief 
so lovingly, that had begun to yield to the stormy fore- 
bodings which hope deferred oppresses the soul with. 

Notwithstanding all this, fear at times seemed to get 
the better of her resolution. How she had watched and 
waited, and yet there was no tidings of his coming. 

Was Tite lost? If so, how, and where was he lost? 
Must she give him up as gone forever? Must she give 
him up, and see him, and hold sweet communion with 
him, only in her love-dream, among the flowers fancy 
pictures in the garden of our hopes ? Must she forget 
the idol of her love, transport her affections, yield to her 
mother’s wishes, which were daily becoming more press- 
ing, and marry Mr. Gusher, a man she did not even 
respect, much less love? In gratifying a mother’s am- 
bition she might, perhaps, make her own life wretched. 
If Tite was lost, what was to become of his aged parents, 
Hanz and Angeline? Their welfare seemed to con- 
cern her even more deeply than that of her own parents. 
Hanz had found means of communicating with her, 
had made her acquainted with all his troubles, and 
now the day set for a hearing of his case was near at 
hand. 

Mattie knew nothing really bad of Mr. Gusher. He 
had seemed to her one of those uncertain characters who 


232 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


float about on the surface of society without having any 
fixed position in if, who have no legitimate occupation, 
depend on chance for everything, and lead an artificial 
life generally. Such men, it had seemed to her, were 
poor companions to sail down the stormy sea of life with. 
In Tite she saw something real, good, substantial ; one 
of those young men who prosper and build up their own 
fortunes and future, because they apply themselves 
steadily and energetically to the legitimate pursuits of 
life. 

The door opened suddenly, and Mattie's reverie was 
interrupted by her mother, whose portly figure quite 
filled the space, for, in truth, the lady had enlarged 
her hip circumference with an unpardonable amount of 
padding. Mrs. Chapman expected distinguished com- 
pany that day, and had arrayed herself in a tantaliz- 
ing amount of finery. For the first time, too, she had 
put her hair up in puffs, which was the fashion of the 
day in Bowling Green. Indeed the lady flattered her- 
self that there was nothing in Bowling Green that 
could excel her in the magnificence of her upholstery. 

“ Expecting company to-day, very distinguished 
company, too,” said Mrs. Chapman, advancing and 
bowing her head oppressively, ( ‘ and how very annoying 
not to be dressed as one wants to be.” After viewing 
herself in the glass for several minutes, turning first 
one side and then the other, viewing and reviewing her 
skirts, and training her puffs into more exact platoon, 
she turned to Mattie, and resumed, “ Now tell me, 
my daughter, how do my skirts hang? Does my 
dress become me ? Do puffs become me ? You see my 
face is a little broad — puffs will, I am afraid, make 
it look disadvantageously broad. Tell me now, my 
daughter, am I presentable?” Mrs. Chapman waited 


CHANGED CIRCUMSTANCES. 


233 


with an air of self-admiration for a reply. “You have 
such good taste in such matters, my daughter ;” she 
concluded. 

u Why, mother,’ ’ replied Mattie, smiling and viewing 
her mother from head to foot, “how very worldly you 
are getting, and so vain. Never saw you look better — 
and so young.” 

“I appreciate the compliment, my daughter,” re- 
turned Mrs. Chapman, dropping a how and a courtesy. 
“A woman of my complexion may he excused for 
refusing to get old.” 

“I was only joking,” resumed Mattie, laughing 
heartily. “My dear mother takes everything so seri- 
ous ” 

“Come, come,” interrrupted Mrs. Chapman, her face 
coloring, “does my dress become me? Am I pre- 
sentable?” 

“You are elegance itself, my dear mother, and would 
he presentable anywhere,” returned Mattie, with a 
merry twinkle of the eye. 

“That’s what I wanted to know,” said Mrs. Chap- 
man with a how, and a slight motion backward. “And 
now, my daughter,” she resumed quickly, this is a 
good time for having a very serious talk on a very im- 
portant, but very different matter. What we were 
talking about yesterday, you know. I hope you have 
made up your mind to banish Toodleburg.” Mrs. 
Chapman drew herself up into a stately attitude, and 
assumed a look of uncommon severity. “You know 
how much your parents dote on you, my daughter, and 
how much depends on you to give the family a firm 
standing.” The lady tossed her head haughtily and 
pretentiously. Mattie remained silent and thoughtful. 


234 


THE VON TOODLEBTJRGS. 


“ Toodleburg’s at the bottom of the sea — that’s my 
opinion. And if he stays there it wouldn’t distress 
me— it wouldn’t,” resumed Mrs. Chapman, giving way 
to her temper and becoming more earnest. Just then 
tears gushed into Mattie’s eyes, and as they coursed 
down her cheeks told the tale of her sorrow. 

“What I said was intended for good ‘ advice, my 
daughter, not to wound your feelings,” continued Mrs. 
Chapman. “ Even if the young man should not be at 
the bottom of the sea, we should never be presentable 
with him attached to the family — never in the world. 
Such a name, and such common people for parents! 
What would Bowling Green say, my daughter? We 
must all yield to the force of circumstances ; and the 
circumstances are all against this Mr. Toodleburg 
tumbling himself into our family.” She paused sud- 
denly, and again viewed her ponderous figure in the 
glass, now adjusting one side of her skirts and then the 
other. “I wonder if this dress really does become 
me? Green and orange are in harmony with a com- 
plexion like mine,” she said, turning to Mattie, and 
waiting for a reply. But Mattie was trying to relieve 
her feelings of the grief that was filling her eyes with 
tears. 

“To return to what I was saying, my daughter, 
sentimental marriages, I was going to say, (well, I will 
say it,) are fools’ marriages. Yes, they are. Your father 
understands that. Never would have got him — never 
in this world — if I had been given to sentimental love. 
Toodleburg’s a good enough young man in his place — 
hut he’s never, never coming hack, my daughter. But 
even if he was to come back, there’s no place for him 
n our family. View these things, always do, through 
the eye of philosophy — I do.” Mrs. Chapman again 


CHANGED CIRCUMSTANCES. 235 

paused, bowed her bead admonishingly, and extended 
her fat, waxy bands. Mattie still remained silent. 

“ After all tbe polishing you have bad, my daughter, 
to let your mind run to such an unpolished young man. 
Drag a family down when a family is going up, and 
there’s the end of that family — with -society I mean.” 
Mrs. Chapman tossed her head, and again returned to 
the mirror, saying as she viewed herself in it : “ Drag 
a low bred fellow into a well bred family, I repeat, and 
down that family goes.” 

“Well, well, my dear mother shall have it all her 
own way,” replied Mattie, cheering up and assuming 
an air of indifference. “Anything to relieve your 
anxiety, my dear mother. How nice it would be to 
have a husband you admire so much, and to think that 
I obeyed your wishes in everything. The fact is I had 
a very serious talk with Mr. Gusher yesterday ” 

“You didn’t offend him with your eccentricities, I 
hope?” Mrs. Chapman interrupted, enquiringly. “Mr. 
Gusher is such a polished gentleman, and so very 
sensitive.” 

“I don’t know how sensitive he may be, mother; 
hut I told him just exactly what I thought, as I would 
have told any one else. I told him how much you 
admired him, and what a favorite he was generally ; 
and that if I consented to accept him for a husband, it 
would be solely to accommodate my dear mother ” 

‘ 1 How very obstinate my daughter is,” interposed Mrs. 
Chapman. “ How very distressing to have a daughter 
always in rebellion.” 

“Iam sure you would not have me flatter Mr. Gusher 
with a falsehood, mother,” resumed Mattie. “I tried 
to impress him with the fact that I was not good enough 
for so accomplished a gentleman ; but he insisted that 


236 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


I was, adding that he cared nothing for riches or station. 
As for loving him, I told him plainly I didn't think I 
ever could, though there was no knowing what changes 
time might work in my feelings. I gave him my 
hand, nevertheless, and told him if he took me it must 
be with the consequences." 

Mr. Napoleon Bowles announced visitors, and this 
put an end to the conversation. The reader must know 
that this was not a voluntary yielding on the part of 
Mattie to the wishes of her mother. She only adopted 
this course as part of a plan by which she hoped to 
gain time, during which Tite might return, and thus 
afford her the means of averting a dilemma into which 
her mother was forcing her. 


CHAPTER XXX. 


A TERRIBLE CALAMITY OVERTAKES THE FAMILY. 

It was not to be expected that so pushing a woman 
as Mrs. Chapman would he turned from the object she 
had set her heart on by the interposition of ordinary 
obstacles. She had taken good care to have the engage- 
ment pretty well trumpeted over Bowling Green ; and 
in less than three months from the time what is de- 
scribed in the foregoing chapter occured, the lady had 
a day fixed for the wedding ceremony, which she 
declared should be on such a scale of magnificence as 
would astonish all New York, to say nothing of West 
Bowling Green. And now she was distracting her 
wits, and the wits of her friends, over what she called 
the preliminaries extraordinary. Weddings, the lady 
said, must be illuminated according to the position of 
the family. And to that end an additional amount of 
elegant furniture was got for the house, a new carriage 
was ordered, and Mr. Napoleon Bowles was to appear 
in a new livery, with top boots. Nor was the family 
finery to be neglected, for at least a dozen dressmakers 
had been employed for a month plying their needles. 
In short, this great coming event in the history of the 
Chapman family had afforded Bowling Green enough 
to talk about for a month. 

The lady’s meek looking little husband pleaded in 
vain for economy ; suggested in vain his almost empty 
pocket. “A quiet family wedding, my dear, with a 
few honest-hearted friends invited, will be so much 
better, you know he would say, submissively. “ You 

237 


238 


THE VON TOODLEBUBOS. 


know what nice quiet weddings we used to have at 
Dogtown, and how cheap they were." 

“ Don’t mention Dogtown, my dear; pray don't, my 
darling," the lady would reply, a curl of contempt on 
her lips. “We live in New York, now. I wish we 
had never known Dogtown — only common people marry 
in that way in New York. Never bring Dogtown into 
the house again, my darling." 

“Have it all your own way, my dear," Chapman 
would conclude, knowing there was nothing for him to 
do but surrender submissively. 

St. Paul’s Church was to be decorated with flowers, 
for the young people were to be married there, sur- 
rounded by gay and admiring friends, who were to 
make the picture bright and sunny with their smiles 
and congratulations. And there was to be a grand 
reception and a sumptuous supper at the house ; and 
the happiness of bride and bridegroom was to be drunk 
in sparkling wine ; and music and dancing was to 
animate the soul and add charms to their joy-dream. 

Mrs. Chapman, I may add here, had a great weakness 
for distinctions. She had cards printed in gold, in 
blue, and in red. Such as received cards printed in 
gold were to consider themselves particularly honored. 
In short, she divided her guests into three classes — 
select friends, friends, and acquaintances, and sent 
them cards accordingly. This manner of distinguishing 
between guests got the lady into a deal of trouble, and 
gave rise to much ill-feeling between those who held 
cards printed in gold and those holding ordinary red 
ones. Beau Pinks had been honored with a card printed 
in gold, which he said was a proof of the high esteem 
he was held in by the lady. In truth, the Beau took 
great pride in showing this card to the best Bowling 


A TERRIBLE CALAMITY OVERTAKES TIIE FAMILY. 239 

Green society, and, with a suggestive nod of the head, 
saying he had got his best clothes ready, and was wait- 
ing to put in an appearance. Mrs. Chapman had always 
regarded Pinks as a valuable capture, and if he came 
to the wedding, why, that would in part he gaining 
the advantage she desired, and in a measure pay off 
the old 'score she had against a few of these nice old 
Bowling Green people. 

It must be said to Pinks’ credit that he never declined 
an invitation to a wedding, and rarely missed a chance 
to mourn at a friend’s funeral. 

And while Mrs. Chapman seemed to think of nothing 
else, and talk of nothing else hut this great coming 
event, Chapman had been noticed to wear a more seri- 
ous look than usual, and indeed to be in a more 
thoughtful mood. Indeed it was evident there was 
something on his mind causing him deep anxiety, even 
distress. It was noticed, too, that he had for several 
days gone to business earlier than usual and returned 
later. And when Mrs. Chapman requested an expla- 
nation, he would reply by saying : “-Matters at the 
counting-house require examining into, my dear.” In 
truth, the financial affairs of the great Kidd Discovery 
Company had begun to exhibit those infirmities which 
are a sure sign of speedy wreck. 

And now the day was come when Mattie was to he 
married to Mr. Gusher. It was three years to-day 
since Tite hid her good-bye and sailed on his voyage, 
and it was to he her wedding-day. How strange the 
changed scene seemed to her. 

It was one of those soft and balmy mornings in May, 
when nature seems to enchant us, and hold sweet com- 
munion with us through all her beauties. There was 
not a ripple on the water; white sails dotted the calm 


240 


THE VON TOODLEBUHGS. 


surface of the bay, which seemed like a silvery lake 
quietly sleeping in the embrace of pretty green hills, 
softened by the golden gleams of the rising sun. The 
trees were in blossom ; birds were filling the air with 
delicious melody, but not a leaf stirred. 

The Chapman family were up before the sun that 
morning, and the whole house was astir ere Bowling 
Green had fairly waked up, or the din of Broadway 
had broken the stillness. Chapman had spent a rest- 
less night, and seemed sad and downcast, as if some 
trouble he would fain conceal was weighing on his 
mind. He breakfasted alone that morning, and went 
to business an hour earlier than usual, promising to 
return at one o'clock. He returned, however, at twelve, 
and in such a state of distress as to alarm the whole 
house. Indeed he entered the house more like a mad- 
man than a philosopher, and so alarmed Bowles by the 
wildness of his manner and appearance, that he pro- 
ceeded in a state of great excitement to inform his 
mistress. When, then, that lady entered the parlor 
she found her husband stretched on the sofa, with his 
right hand pressing his forehead, and apparently in a 
state of great distress. To her repeated enquiries as to 
what produced this great distress, he would only answer 
by shaking his head and giving vent to the most pitiful 
groans. 

The lady could not fail to see that some great mis- 
fortune had overtaken her husband — something that 
might blast the dream of her golden future. 

“I hope, my dear, it is nothing that will interfere 
with the wedding to-day?” she enquired, her face 
already beginning to give out signs of alarm. 

Chapman made no reply, but got quickly up from 
the sofa and paced the room hurriedly, his hair tossed 
in to disorder, and in a state of frenzy. 


A TERRIBLE CALAMITY OVERTAKES THE FAMILY. 241 

After pacing up and down the room in this manner 
for two or three minutes, which seemed like hours to 
Mrs. Chapman, who had kept her eyes fixed on his every 
movement, he approached the lady, and with a wild 
stare, muttered rather than spoke : “A funeral, funeral, 
my dear — not a wedding to-day/ * Chapman pressed 
his hands to his head again, and wept like a child. 
“ Boundless iniquity,” he resumed, “ fraud — decep- 
tion — crime — disgrace — folly — extravagance — disap- 
pointment — poverty. What a sham the world is l All, 
all is gone! No need for a clergyman here to-day. 
The sheriff will he here in an hour.” 

“ My dear, my dear, do explain yourself, so that I may 
understand our position;” Mrs. Chapman interposed, 
her whole system yielding to the force of excitement. 
If the trouble is only of a transient nature, we may still 
give the wedding ” 

“ Wedding! my dear,” interrupted Chapman, wiping 
the tears from his eyes. “ There can be no wedding in 
this house to-day, for Gusher has turned out an impostor, 

and is in prison .” Before he had time to say any 

more, the lady threw up her arms with an exclamation, 
shrieked and swooned. Chapman attempted to catch 
her in his arms as she was falling, hut she carried him 
to the floor under her great weight, and indeed caused 
him to feel alarmed for his own safety. Fortunately, 
Bowles entered the parlor just as his mistress fell, and 
seeing the danger his master was in, ran to his relief, 
and after extracting him from his perilous position, 
assisted in getting his mistress safely on the sofa, where 
restoratives, such as are common where ladies are given 
to such ills, were applied. 

Chapman was indeed a man to be pitied. He had 

now more than his head and hands full of trouble. The 
ia 


242 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


care it was now necessary to bestow on his wife (for she 
was above all else in his mind) in a great measure 
relieved him of the excitement caused by his great 
financial misfortunes. When, then, Mattie entered 
the parlor and found him comparatively calm, she 
fancied her mother had swooned from over-exertion on 
her behalf. Taking a seat beside, her mother, she 
kissed and kissed her cheek, and proceeded to bestow 
upon her those attentions her case demanded, and in so 
kind and gentle a manner as to show how deep and 
true vas the love she bore her. 

Chapman soon relieved Mattie's mind, by telling her 
all that had happened. As he concluded she grasped 
his hand firmly and imprinted a kiss on his cheek. 
“Heaven be thanked, father,” she said, “it is a kind 
Providence that directs all our destinies. I am free 
now. You are free — free in your intentions — free in 
your conscience. I am happy now — happy because I 
shall not have to interpose my oath against yours. 
You shall know what I mean hy that hereafter.” 

While this was going on up stairs Bowles, his eyes 
protruding, and in a state of great alarm, entered the 
kitchen, where Bridget, the cook, and Kitty, the cham- 
bermaid were at work, and stammered out : “Der don’t 
be no weddin’ in dis house to-day — peers to me — no 
how. Quid mortibus, portendibus — my missus am 
most dead.” 

“To the pots wid yeer latin, ye nager,” said Bridget, 
seizing the tongs and holding them threatingly over 
his head. “To the pots wid yeer latin, ye nager. Spake 
so a dacent woman can understand what ye mane.” 
To appease Bridget’s wrath and save his head, Bowles 
condescended to use plain English in describing what 
had happened up stairs. 


A TERRIBLE CALAMITY OVERTAKES THE FAMILY. 243 

“ Much good may the faint do the big, auld woman/’ 
said Bridget, with an air of indifference. “The divel 
takes a mighty good care of his own.” 

“Quid — mortibus — portendibus,” repeated Bowles, 
as Bridget ran to the door with the tongs upraised, 
causing him to heat a hasty retreat. 

“ Bad luck t6 such a nager!” exclaimed Bridget, as 
Bowles shut the door. “ Shure he thinks more about 
his latin and his livery an he do about his priest.” 

“ Chapman, my dear Chapman, how crushing this 
all is,” the lady whispered, as she began to recover her 
consciousness. “I feel more dead than alive — I do. 
Send Bowles out. Do what you can to soften the dis- 
appointment. Tell those who come it was all owing 
to unforeseen circumstances. Oh, my dear daughter,” 
she put her arm around Mattie’s neck, drew lier4o her 
and kissed her, “ how can we look Bowling Green in 
the face after this ? We never shall, and yet your father 
is a scholar and a gentleman.” 

Chapman’s excitement began to return with his wife’s 
recovery ; indeed it soon became her turn to soothe his 
troubled mind. 

“ Gusher — the handsome young gentleman — is in 
prison, eh, and turns out to be ” 

“ My dear wife,” interrupted Chapman,* again giving 
way to his feelings, “ he turns out to be Louis Pinto, 
an impostor. That’s the whole of it — except what 
there may be in this paper.” He drew a newspaper 
from his pocket, and pointing to an article headed : 
“A Notorious Impostor caught at Last,” said : “ There, 
my dear, read that.” It gave a very long account, or 
rather history of the prisoner’s exploits in Havana and 
New Orleans, his operations in New York, financially 
as well as socially, and indeed all the circumstances 


244 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


attending liis career since lie arrived in the city, his 
connection with the great Kidd Discovery Company, 
and not forgetting to mention that he was to have been 
married this day to a lovely and interesting young 
lady — the daughter of a highly respectable family. 

u Have read enough, my dear,” said Mrs. Chapman, 
putting the paper aside quietly. “Smelling salts, the 
ammonia, my daughter,” she whispered to Mattie, and 
motioned her hand to bring them quickly. “ I shall 
faint again, I am sure I shall.” 

“ Don’t let it worry you so much, mother,” replied 
Mattie, as she handed her the phial. “ We ought all 
to be thankful that we have escaped with no worse 
disgrace. I at least am thankful.” 

Mrs. Chapman shook her head, hut made no reply 
for'aseveral minutes. Then turning to her husband, 
she pressed her hands to her head and resumed : “ My 
pride is crushed, and my courage all gone, gone, gone. 
Bigelow Chapman, my dear, when I married you I 
knew you were intellectually great, and I looked forward 
to a brilliant future. The house is all dark now.” 

“ Extravagance, my dear, extravagance,” said Chap- 
man, shaking his head suggestively. “ It is a master 
that will break down the best of us.” Topman and 
Mrs. Topman have been indulging in extravagance ; 
Gusher has been spending all the money he could get, 
and all the young men in the office went to doing the 
same. “And you, my darling — you know you havn’t 
lived .” Chapman was going to say, “ so econom- 

ical.” 

“But, my dear,” rejoined Mrs. Chapman quickly, 
and evidently inclined to change the conversation : “It 
was not me who introduced the handsome young gentle- 
man into the house.” 


A TERRIBLE CALAMITY OVERTAKES THE FAMILY. 245 

u No, my dear — you only encouraged him when he 
was in,” replied Chapman, submissively. U I didn't 
tell you all, my dear, Topman is a forger, and is not 
to be found. And, and the worst of it is — and that 
is what has caused all the trouble — the great Kidd 
Discovery Company is dead ! That's where it is !” 

“ Dead, my dear, dead!" reiterated the astonished 
woman. “We call it gone up in Wall Street ” 

“ Couldn’t you contrive some way, my dear, to lighten 4 
the disgrace?" 

“Wall Street is in a state of excitement, the sheriff 
is in possession of everything, and beggary stares me 
in the face ” 

This conversation was interrupted by loud ringing of 
the hall bell, and in another minute Bowles opened the 
parlor door and the sheriff and one of his deputies 
entered, and commenced their business. “ Beg your 
pardon," said the sheriff, bowing politely, while his 
deputy deliberately took a seat and began a survey of 
everything within sight. “ You must excuse any lack 
of ceremony on our part. It is a part of our duty to do 
these things, and we try to relieve them as much as 
possible of their painful features." Then taking Chap- 
man aside, he suggested that the ladies better be got 
up stairs. And while this was being done the deputy 
entered the back parlor, and placing his hat on the pier 
table, began taking an inventory of all the furniture. 

“ You will find my deputy a gentleman," said the 
sheriff, addressing Chapman when the ladies had left 
the parlor, and if not such a companion as you would 
prefer, I am compelled to leave him with you, and hope 
your esteem for him will improve on acquaintance. He 
will take a schedule of everything, and anything miss- 

■g thereafter you will be held responsible for." Thus 


246 


TIIE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


saying, the gentleman hid Chapman a polite good 
morning, and hurried himself out of the house. 

Again the hall bell rang. This time Bowles brought 
in an unsealed note, grimy and discolored. Chapman 
immediately recognized it as from Gusher. He carried 
it up stairs to his dear wife, who read it aloud, for it 
was addressed to her, and read thus : 

“ Pardon, madam, pardon. Zis one circumstance, 
he is so very disagreeable. My compliment to ze 
family, an Mr. Gusher, he beg to say as he shall be 
compel to forego ze pleasure of is marriage zis day wiz 
your daughter. He is one grand rascal what make me 
so much trouble. So many friend come to see me to-day. 
But ze suberscribed condition of my accommodation 
shall prevent ze carry out of my obligation wiz your 
lovely daughter. You shall zee, madam, as I am a 
man — yes, madam, a gentleman of ’onar. I shall get 
all my enemies undar my feet. Zen I shall do myself 
ze ’onar to marry your lovely daughter. Allow me, 
madam. I shall subscribe myself your friend. 

11 PHILO GUSHER.” 

“ Impudence to the very last,” said Mrs. Chapman; 
“ he has brought this disgrace upon us, and no\y insults 
us in this way.” When Chapman returned he found 
the parlor doors locked, and was informed by the 
sheriff’s deputy that he must confine himself to the 
kitchen and one room up stairs. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 


A VERY PERPLEXING SITUATION. 

Wall Street was in a great flatter that day. & 
forgery, a defalcation that to-day would cause but a 
ripple on the surface, would have at that day sent the 
street into a tempest of excitement. A sheriff's deputy 
stood at the door of the office of the great Kidd Dis- 
covery Company, and a crowd of anxious and excited 
people, who had invested their money and now found 
they had lost it all, and had been made the victims of 
an aggravating fraud, surrounded the building. Threats 
and imprecations, enough to have sent a much more 
respectable house to the bottom of the sea, were heaped 
on the firm of Topman & Gusher. Nor indeed would 
it have been safe for any one connected with tha<t 
enterprising firm to have shown his head in that 
assembly just at that time. 

“ Gentlemen will understand that this consolidated 
establishment is in a very unconsolidated condition. 
No further business will be done until its affairs are 
compromised;" the sheriff's deputy would announce, 
in a loud voice, as he endeavored to keep the crowd 
hack. “ There's only an empty safe, gentlemen, and 
some handsome office furniture," he would ejaculate. 
u You can't have them, you know." 

Extravagance had indeed swallowed up all the sub- 
stance and left only these insignificant things for the 
crowd of anxious creditors to feast their eyes on. 

Rumor after rumor rang through Wall Street, each 
in turn increasing the amount of Topman's forgeries, 

247 


248 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


and adding new names to the list of his victims. Bank 
ledgers were examined to see if the name of the firm 
appeared on them, and portly old directors put on their 
spectacles and congratulated themselves that the con- 
cern did not owe them a shilling. Groups of excited 
men stood at street corners discussing in animated 
tr nes the great event of the street. Everybody 
knew it must come. Nobody expected it would come 
so soon. 

The strangest thing of all was that no one knew any- 
thing of the antecedents of either member of the firm, 
or what the great Kidd Discovery Company was really 
based upon. Enterprising gentlemen had bought and 
sold the stock, and made and lost money by it. That was 
all they knew of it. The morning papers had given 
them an interesting account about Gusher ; now some 
one was needed to tell them all about Topman — where 
he came from, who he was, and where he was to be 
found. There was enough to call him rascal now. 
Even those who had ridden in his carriage, and enjoyed 
his dinners, and indeed thought him 4he best of fellows 
a few weeks before, were now ready to give him the 
hardest of kicks. 

In truth, the firm was a mystery in Wall Street, and 
its largest creditors were in the greatest darkness con- 
cerning it. Some one has truly said that in a great 
commercial city men are known only by their enter- 
prises and their successes ; that their antecedents become 
lost in the magnitude and rapidity with which events 
revolve. This is particularly so with us. The firm of 
Topman & Gusher had fixed itself in Pearl Street, and 
gone quietly into business without friends, acquaint- 
ances, or endorsers ; and in a single year had secured 
both credit and respectability. And it had done this 


A yERY PERPLEXING SITUATION. 249 

on wliat is too frequently mistaken for energy and 
enterprise — show and pretension. 

Upon Chapman's shoulders, however, the crushing 
effect of this great disaster fell heaviest. Stripped of 
all he had, ruined, disgraced, he stood like one amazed 
at the suddenness of his own fall. He had built hip 
castles on sand, and now found them tumbling down, 
and crushing him under the ruin. His avaricious 
nature had led him, not only to wrong, hut to bring 
distress and ruin orihhe unsuspecting and simple-minded 
Dutch settlers. The wheel of fortune was turned now 
He had himself been ruined, betrayed, and disgraced 
by the very men he had put confidence in and made 
partners of his guilt. He also had set a snare and 
invented a plot by which he expected to strip honest 
old Hanz Toodleburg of his property, and now he had 
been caught in it himself. 

His daughter, Mattie, had already disclosed to him the 
fact that she had overheard the conversation between 
him and Topman, relative to the manner of entrapping 
Hanz, and knew the secret of their plot. And she 
had appealed to him to save her the pain of bearing 
testimony that would conflict with his, to save an 
honest old man from poverty. The man of great pro- 
gressive ideas now found it necessary to invent some 
way of escaping from what he saw would be worse than 
ruin and disgrace — a criminal's doom. His name had 
not appeared in the suit Topman & Gusher brought 
against Hanz Toodleburg. Oh, no. Chapman was 
needed as a witness to prove the signing of the papers, 
and all the circumstances relating to the sale of the 
secret of Kidd's treasure. Poverty and misfortune 
had now stepped in to purify and direct a smitten 
conscience, 


250 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


He could not see liis daughter further disgraced. 
Nor could he meet her in a court, giving testimony in 
conflict with his, and exposing his crime. He could 
only escape by coming out boldly, and doing justice to 
the old man he had tried so hard to wrong. It would 
also he to his advantage to assume this virtue, for if the 
case were decided against Hanz he would gain nothing. 
The creditors would in that case get all the property, 
whereas, if he confessed his partnership in, and exposed 
the plot, and defeated the creditors, some benefit might 
result from it — at some time. The son might still he 
alive, Chapman said to himself, and if he should form 
a connection with the family at some future day, (and 
there was no knowing what might happen,) why it was 
better to protect Hanz and the property now. He well 
knew that Mattie had fixed her affection on the young 
gentleman, and if he should ever return, nothing her 
mother could say hereafter would prevent their mar- 
riage. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 


HARVEST SUNDAY. 

October was come again, the poetry of summer had 
almost departed, and it was a quiet Sunday morning 
in the country. The hell on the little old church by 
the hillside, at Nyack, was calling the plodding Dutch 
settlers to morning service. The hard, hollow sounds 
of the old bell echoed harshly over the hills, and yet 
there was something in its familiar sounds, and the 
quiet pastoral scenes it was associated with, that always 
moved our feelings, and prompted us to give them a 
pleasant resting place in our love. 

Cattle were resting in the fields, and their yokes 
hung on the gate posts that day. A soft, Indian-sum- 
mer glow hung with transparent effect over the land- 
scape ; and a gentle wind whispered lovingly over the 
Tappan Zee. Autumn, too, had hung the trees in her 
brightest colors. 

It was Harvest Sunday, a sort of festive resting-day 
with the Dutch settlers, who had gathered about the 
little church in great numbers, young and old, all 
dressed in their simple but neat attire. Others were 
quietly wending their way thitherward, along the lanes 
and through the fields. There they gathered about the 
little old church, a smiling, happy, and contented 
people, and waited for the Dominie, for it was their 
custom to meet him at the church door, and after ex- 
changing greetings, follow him like a loving flock into 
their seats. 


252 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


The Dominie was to preach his harvest sermon , and 
his flock was to join him in giving thanks to God for 
the bounties He had bestowed upon them. He had, 
indeed, blessed them with an abundant harvest that 
year ; and now they had come to thank Him and be 
joyful. Conspicuous in the group was the little snuffy 
doctor, Critchel, looking happy among the people whose 
ills he had administered to for half a century. On 
Harvest-Sunday he could kiss and caress the bright 
faced little children he had helped bring into the world 
as fondly as a young mother. There, too, was the 
schoolmaster, with his ruddy face and his seedy clothes, 
ready to do his part in making Harvest-Sunday pass 
pleasantly, for indeed the crop was a matter of import- 
ance with him. And there was Titus Bright, for the 
merry little inn-keeper would have considered such a 
gathering incomplete without him. Titus was not so 
well thought of by the Dutch settlers since he gave up 
his little tavern for a big one, and had taken to boarding 
fine folks from the city. 

And now the appearance of Hanz and Angeline, 
advancing slowly up the road, for Hanz walked with a 
staff, created a pleasant diversion. Several of the 
young people ran to meet them, and greeted them with 
such expressions of welcome as must have filled their 
hearts with joy. 

When they had nearly reached the church, Critchel 
proceeded to meet them with his hand extended. 
“ Verily, good neighbor Hanz,” said he, after greet- 
ing the old people with a hearty shake of the hand, 
“the people have had strange news to talk about for 
a week past. Critchel shook his head, looked serious, 
and taking Hanz by the arm, drew him aside. “This 
Chapman has fallen to the ground, they say.” 


HARVEST-SUNDAY. 


253 


11 Mine friend Critchel,” returned Hanz, leaning on 
his staff, and casting a look upward. “I tolds you 
tar pees un shust Got ; and now you shees how dat 
shust Got he pees mine friend.” 

“Aye, verily,” rejoined Critchel, “and he lets them 
what builds castles and lives like lords suffer their dis- 
appointments. Poor people like us, who work with 
their hands, stick to their lands, and pay their debts, 
have their castles in peace and contentment.” 

“ Tar pees shust so much wisdom in vat you shays, 
mine friend Critchel. In dis world tar pees nothin’ 
sartin. Dis Chapman, he puts his money in his pocket, 
and ven he gets his money in his pocket he gets rich 
and prout. Zen he goes to t’ city so pig and prout as 
he can pe. Now he comes pack from t’ city, mit his 
pig vrow, and tar pees nobody as makes one pow to his 
pig vrow. Above tar pees one shust Got, Critchel.” 

The misfortunes of the Chapman family, my reader 
must know, had been furnishing Nyack something to 
talk about for several months. But it was only with 
their return to town, which important event took place 
one morning during the last week, that the quiet of 
Nyack was disturbed and the gossips sent into a state 
of excitement. The family, indeed, returned as quietly 
as a family in misfortune could be expected to do, and 
put up at Bright’s Inn, where, it was given out, they 
would live on the wreck of their fortune until Chap- 
man could see his way clear for a new start in the 
world. But little was seen of Mrs. Chapman, of whom 
it was reported that she desired to live in retirement, 
and did not see visitors. 

The lady, however, had resolved that Nyack should 
not turn up its nose without being kept in mind of the 
high social position the family had held in the city. 


254 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


And as a means of making the desired impression, and 
also of finding relief for her injured feelings, she had 
brought Napoleon Bowles into “retirement” with the 
family. And that faithful domestic accommodated his 
pride of a Sunday by dressing in his livery and top- 
boots, and walking out, to the astonishment and 
amusement of a crowd of curious urchins, who were 
sure to gather about him. 

As for Chapman, he went about the town as if nothing 
had happened, renewing acquaintances, and declaring 
there was no honester man in the settlement than Hanz 
Toodleburg ; that the charges against his honesty, and 
his connection with the Kidd Discovery Company, were 
all scandals, got up by bad men ; and that he had been 
deceived by them himself. 

During the few days Chapman had been in Nyack, 
he had made himself appear so good a friend of Hanz 
that the honest settlers not only began to express sym- 
pathy for him in his misfortunes, but to enquire what 
they could do to put him on his feet again. When, 
however, he told them it was not their sympathy he 
wanted, but their money to assist him in building a 
steamboat two hundred feet long, and that he had 
matured a plan for a railroad, so that they might ride 
from Nyack to New York in an hour, they became 
alarmed, put their heads together wisely, and declared 
the man mad beyond cure. 

Here I must leave Chapman waiting to see his way 
clear. He came of that old round-head stock which, 
wanting its way always, ready to meddle with every- 
thing, never contented, ready to play the sycophant to 
gain power, selfish and arrogant in the use of it, is, 
nevertheless, found giving shape, action, and momen- 
tum to all our great enterprises. Out of all the trouble 


HARVEST-SUNDAY. 


255 


Chapman had caused Nyack, there had come some 
good that would be turned to account in the future. 
Misfortune had bowed, not broken his spirit. He was 
again prepared to invent a new religion, to build a 
church, to keep a hoarding-house, to start a hank or 
run a steamboat — and all with modern improvements. 

The little church hell was still ringing, and the 
crowd still kept increasing in numbers and cheerful- 
ness. u The Dominie’s coming ! the Dominie’s coming ! 
The Dominie’s coming! ” was lisped by a score of lips, 
as the attention of the people was attracted down the 
road. There the old Dominie came, mounted on a 
clumsy-footed, big-headed, bay cob — a little bright-eyed 
girl, whose face was full of sweetness and love, and 
dressed in blue and white, riding behind him. His 
broad, kindly face, shadowed by a wide-brimmed hat, 
his flowing white hair, his quaintly cut coat, with the 
ample side pocket, and his long, white necktie, pre- 
sented a picture so full of truth and simplicity as to be 
worthy of being preserved on canvas. He was, in 
truth, a figure belonging to an order of things that 
was fast passing way — at least along the hanks of the 
Hudson. 

Children clapped their hands and ran to meet him ; 
girls greeted him with offerings of flowers ; and when 
he had dismounted, both old and young gathered about 
him, lisping him a welcome and shaking him by the 
hand. There was nobody like Dominie Payson, and 
the love these people, bore him, and now gave him so 
many expressions of, was true and heartfelt. And 
when he had kissed the children, and exchanged greet- 
ings and kind words with their parents, he proceeded 
into the church, followed by his flock. His sermon 
was, perhaps, one of the oddest ever listened to, for 


256 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


after returning thanks for the bountiful harvest, and 
extending on the goodness of God, and advising his 
flock to stick firmly to their farms and their religion, 
that being the only true way of getting to Heaven, he 
turned his guns against Mr. and Mrs. Chapman, though 
he never once mentioned their names. He urged his 
flock to keep in mind always how much better off they 
were, how much more happy they were than those men 
who came to town with the devil and a number of 
strange religions in their heads. Such people, he 
added, always had the devil for a friend ; and it was 
the devil who assisted them to get poor people’s money. 
And with this money they dressed their wives in silks 
and satins, built big houses, and lived like people who 
were very proud and never paid their debts, nor did a 
day’s work on the roads. It was all well enough for 
these men to talk of Heaven and put on pious faces, 
but Heaven would take no notice of them while they 
gave themselves up to the temptations of the devil and 
built steamboats and founded railroads, to kill honest 
people with, and ruin the country. 

“ My friends,” said the Dominie, resting for a mo- 
ment, and then charging his guns for another fire at 
Chapman, ‘ c you have seen a man ready to sell his 
soul for money enough to build a steamboat. Now he 
wants to build a railroad to get you out of the world 
quicker.” The Dominie shook his head, wiped his 
brow, and again paused for a few seconds. “ Let them 
dress their wives in satins and silks, let them ruin their 
country with their steamboats and railroads, let them 
build their big houses, go to the city, get proud, waste 
all their money in folly and vice, and return among 
honest people with a sheriff at their heels, because they 
don’t pay nobody— hut don’t you go and do it. My 


ilARVEST-SUNDAY. 


257 


friends— there will be an account to settle with these 
people who swell themselves up so big, when roasting- 
day comes. You that have wives — look to them. Keep 
their hearts pure and simple. Don’t let them spend 
your money in silks and satins. If you do, the sheriff 
locks up your door and puts the key in his pocket.” 
Thus the Dominie concluded, reminding his hearers 
that, as it was Harvest-Sunday, they must not forget to 
he liberal with their sixpences when the box came round. 

His hearers were greatly delighted, and declared they 
had not heard him preach so good a sermon for many 
a day. And when he came down from the pulpit they 
congratulated him, and sundry extra pecks of wheat 
were promised as a reward for the light he had favored 
them with. 

The day wore away pleasantly, and when evening 
came, when the gleams of the setting sun tipped the 
surrounding hills with golden light, and dusky shadows 
were creeping up the valley, the reader, if he had looked 
in at Hanz Toodleburg’s little house, might have seen 
one of those quaint but pleasant pictures which .are a 
fit ending of such a day. 

There, grouped around his table, sat the Dominie, 
Doctor Critchel, Bright the inn-keeper, and the 
schoolmaster, for Hanz had invited them to sup with 
him, and Angeline had prepared the best she had to 
set before them. There, too, was Tite’s empty chair. 
There it stood, silent and touching, all the pleasant 
memories it once contained made sad now by the mys- 
tery that enshrouded his long absence. There was his 
plate, and his knife and fork, all so bright and clean, 
set as regularly as if he were home, and guarded so 
tenderly. The eloquence of that vacant chair, appeal- 
ing so directly to the finer sensibilities of every one 


258 


TIIE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


present, left a deep and sad impression. Supper was 
nearly over before any of the guests had courage to 
refer to it. The Dominie at length raised his spectacles 
aud addressing Angeline, said : “ Heaven gives to every 
house its idol. We have been blessed to-day, and made 
happy. It will yet please Heaven to bring back the 
idol of this house, and fill that empty chair. I am 
sure we shall all be glad when the boy gets home.” 

“ When he does, there will be such a time at my 
house,” interposed the inn-keeper, nodding his head 
approvingly. “ There’s the parlor for him to do his 
courting in. And one of the prettiest little sweethearts 
is waiting to give him such a welcome. God bless her — 
she isn’t a bit like the rest of them Chapmans — she 
isn’t.” 

“ My school don’t keep the day he comes home,” 
rejoined the schoolmaster, helping himself to another 
piece of pumpk' pie. 

The mention f Tite’s name filled old Hanz’s eyes 
with tears. He buried his face in his hands, and 
remained silent for several minutes, overcome by his 
feelings. As soon as he had recovered control of them, 
he wiped the tears from his eyes, and replied in broken 
sentences : “ I vas sho happy ven mine Tite, mine poor 
poy Tite vas home. Peers as if now, mine poor poy he 
never comes home no more, he never prings shoy into 
mine house no more.” 

“Always look on the best side of things, neighbor 
Hanz,” replied the Dominie. 

“ Yah, put I gets sho old now.” 

“ It would not astonish me,” continued the Dominie, 
playfully, “if the young gentleman surprised us all 
to-night. Stranger things have happened.” These 
remarks excited a feeling of anxiety. 


HARVEST-SUNDAY. 


259 


“I was on the other side of the river last night,” 
continued the Dominie, “and the people there had a 
report from the city that the vessel he sailed in had 
been heard from.” Angeline quietly left the table, for 
the wells of her heart were overflowing. 

“Tar shall come news as t’ wessel mine Tite shails 
in corned pack, eh?” enquired Hanz, fixing his eyes 
steadily on the Dominie. 

“ Not that she has arrived,” returned the Dominie, 
“ but that there is news of her ” 

“ Tar pees news,” muttered Hanz, his eyes glisten- 
ing with anxiety. “An nopody tells me t’ news before, 
eh ? Tar pees shum news of t’at wessel, eh ? Tar don’t 
pee no news of mine poor Tite, eh ?” The old man ex- 
tended his trembling hand and grasped the Dominie’s 
arm nervously, his face became as pale as marble, and 
his whole system shook with excitement. 

“ Tar shall come news as t’ wessel mine Tite shails in 
comes pack,” he ejaculated, “an tar pees no news of 
mine poor poy , eh ?” And he threw up his arms, rested 
his head on the Dominie’s shoulder and wept like a 
child. “ No, mine Tite he ton’t comes home no more,” 
he sobbed. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 


RETURNED HOME. 

While the scene just closed was being enacted, a 
glance across the river and down the road that skirts 
along the Hudson from Yonkers to Tarry town, would 
have discovered a light country wagon, drawn by a 
single horse, and containing two men, advancing at a 
brisk pace. They had nearly reached Dobbs’ Ferry as 
the sun disappeared in the west. 

He who sat beside the driver, with his arms folded, 
and thoughtful, was a tall, well-formed young man, with 
light hair that curled into his neck, side whiskers, deep 
and intelligent blue eyes, a face that lighted up with a 
smile when he spoke, and which had been fair and hand- 
some, but was now scorched and sun-burnt. His 
hands, too, were small, but hard and weather-burnt, 
indicating that he had been accustomed to use them at 
hard work. His dress was of blue petersham, looking 
neat and new, the short coat buttoning square across his 
breast ; and a tall hat set oddly enough on a head 
evidently not accustomed to the fashion that dictated 
such a covering. A broad, white shirt collar, turned 
carelessly down, was tied with a black silk handkerchief, 
the long ends of which hung outside his coat. 

There was something mature and thoughtful in his 
manner, even beyond his years. The driver, an inquisi- 
tive fellow, had several times tried to draw him into 
conversation, that he might find out something con- 
cerning him, for he seemed familiar with the names of 
places along the river, and yet kept up the disguise of a 


RETURNED HOME. 


261 


stranger. But on nothing, except the vessels passing 
up and down the river, did he seem inclined to he com- 
municative. On these he would make such remarks as 
showed familiarity with the sea. Indeed his mind 
seemed absorbed in something of deep and painful 
interest. 

They drew up at the little inn with the swinging 
sign near Dobbs' Ferry, for the driver said his horse 
was jaded, and needed feed and rest before they pro- 
ceeded further, and were met by the short, corpulent 
landlord, who, after ordering the animal cared for, 
invited them into the house, saying there was a good 
supper ready. 

“ It is sundown now," said the passenger, in a tone 
of impatience, as he alighted from the wagon, and 
received the landlord’s extended hand, “and we are 
still six miles away. You have forfeited the inducement 
I offered to quicken your speed ; but it is no offset to 
my disappointment." This was addressed to the driver, 
who muttered something about the heavy roads, in 
reply, tossed his hat into a chair on the porch, and 
with an independent and half-defiant air, walked into 
the house and took his seat at the supper table. 

“ ’Tisn’t the first time Sam’s supped at my house/* 
said the landlord, bowing and inviting the stranger to 
walk in. “ You’ll walk in, sir, won’t you? There’s 
always a good supper at this house — kept it when King 
George’s troops were about — only four shillin’, sir," 
the landlord continued, bowing and motioning his hand. 
But the stranger shook his head negatively, drew a 
cigar from his pocket and politely requested the land- 
lord to give him a light. And when he had lighted 
his cigar, he drew a Spanish dollar from his pocket, and 
slipped it into the man’s hand, saying it would pay for 


262 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


both tlieir suppers, and he would take his wdien they 
returned. He, at the same time, begged the landlord 
to give himself no concern about him, but to proceed to 
his supper, which he knew from his appearance he 
would enjoy. 

“Seem’ how you’re a gentleman,” said the landlord, 
bowing obsequiously, “ there’s three shillin’ more for 
the horse — that squares it.” 

“ Certainly — I forgot the horse,” replied the stranger, 
drawing a half-dollar piece from his pocket and giving 
it to the landlord. 

“ There’s a shillin’ cornin’ to you,” returned the 
landlord, putting the money into one pocket, and feel- 
ing in the other. “ Never mind the shilling,” said the 
stranger, “we will settle that another time.” 

“ Travellers always find a good bed at my house, and 
enough on the table. That’s more than the fellow who 
keeps the house further on can say,” continued the 
landlord, again bowing and proceeding to his supper. 

The stranger now paced quickly and impatiently up 
and down the little veranda, pausing every few minutes 
and looking out in the direction of the wagon, as if it 
contained something he was guarding with scrupulous 
care. In short, the object of his solicitude was a stout, 
leathern valise, in the wagon, and which was so heavy 
that it required the strength of two ordinary men to 
handle it easily. 

Twenty minutes passed and the driver again made 
his appearance, wiping his lips and buttoning up his 
coat unconcernedly. “Sorry to have detained you,'’ 
lie said, flapping his hat on. “ Landlord says you’ve 
settled the shot — won’t be long getting there now.” 
In another minute they were in their seats and on the 
road to Tarry town. 


RETURNED HOME. 


263 


It was nearly eight o’clock when they reached the 
old ferry, and found it deserted for the night. The 
boatmen had ceased their regular crossings nearly an 
hour before, and were quietly smoking their pipes at 
home. The moon was up, stars shone brightly in the 
serene sky, and not a sail specked the unruffled surface 
of the Tappan Zee. Lights twinkled on the opposite 
shore, and the little old town of Nyack was dimly seen. 

They waited a few minutes, and as no one appeared, 
the driver went in search of the boatmen, saying a few 
extra shillings would make it all right with them. And 
while he was gone the stranger paced nervously and 
with rapid steps up and down, every few seconds pausing 
at the pier-head and looking intently in the direction of 
Nyack. Was it joy he anticipated, or disappointment 
he feared? Something was agitating his heart and 
filling his eyes with tears, for he several times turned 
his head and wiped them away. And yet the more he 
watched in the direction of Nyack, the more restless 
and impatient he became. 

The driver returned after an absence of ten minutes, 
accompanied by two sturdy fellows, both of whom 
affected to be in bad humor at being called on to ferry 
a traveller at that hour. With their hands thrust deep 
into their nether pockets, they moved reluctantly about, 
scanning the stranger from head to foot. “ Couldn’t 
stop this side till morning?” enquired one of them, in 
a grumbling tone. “I must cross to-night,” replied 
the stranger, in a decided voice. “ Cross to-night, eh? 
Well, it’s a long pull across there now,” muttered the 
man, blowing the ashes from his pipe and still affecting 
an air of indifference. Then raising his eyes and 
breaking a piece of tobacco between his fingers, he 
resumed : “ Worth a matter of twelve shillin’ extra— 


264 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


isn’t it? Wouldn’t mind a trifle like tliat — I take it.” 

“I must yield to your demands — of course. It is a 
necessity with me to get across as quick as possible, 
replied the stranger, and drawing from bis pocket two 
Spanish dollars, be gave them to the boatman, saying: 
“We will settle the matter now. Here is your pay in 
advance.” 

The man took the money and at once became active 
and civil. “We must set the gentleman across, Tom,” 
said be, addressing bis comrade, and exposing the 
silver, “ this makes it all right.” 

The stranger now dismissed the driver with an extra 
dollar, for which he considered himself lucky, for he 
had not kept his promise to reach the ferry by sun- 
down. 

The boatman who acted as spokesman, in attempting 
to lift the valise from the wagon, let it fall to the ground, 
such was its great weight. “ There’s somethin’ more 
nor clothes in that,” said the man, shaking his head 
and raising his hands in an attitude of alarm. Then, 
with an inquisitive look at the stranger, he continued : 
“ Hadn’t no connection with them are Kidd Discovery 
Company folks? They was swindlers, they was.” 

“ Never heard of such a company before. Get my 
things aboard, and let us be away,” replied the stranger, 
in a tone of command. 

It required the strength of both boatmen to carry the 
valise comfortably ; and when they had got it aboard 
and the stranger seated in the stern, for he said he 
could steer, they pulled away for the opposite shore. 
Not a word was spoken for several minutes. At length 
the stranger broke the silence. “How pleasant it 
seems,” he said, “ to get back on the old Tappan Zee. 
Everything looks so familiar ” 


RETURNED HOME. 


265 


“ You have been here before, then?” enquired the 
man pulling the stern oar, and who had acted as 
spokesman. 

“ Yes,” returned the stranger. “ My home was just 
out of Nyack not many years ago. I may find things 
changed there now. Do you know many people over 
there ?” 

“ Why yes— nearly everybody ” 

“ Dominie Payson — is he living?” 

“ If he didn’t die since yesterday. He was over here 
yesterday.” 

“And Doctor Critchel — you know him, I suppose? 
Is he alive?” 

“ Why, help you — he never intends to die.” 

“And you know, I suppose;” here the stranger 
hesitated, and his voice thickened ; “ you know, I sup- 
pose, Hanz Toodleburg — and his . Are they 

living ?” 

“Living! That they are — and right hearty, too. 
They tried to get the old man mixed up in the Kidd 
Discovery affair — but they didn’ t. ’ ’ The boatman bent 
his head approvingly. 

“There was a Chapman family — are they still in 
Nyack?” 

“ They’re there — but its not sayin’ much for Nyack. 
They went to New York proud, and as folks thought 
rich, for Chapman had his finger in schemes enough to 
get other people’s money; hut he corn’d hack poor as a 
crow, they say.” 

The stranger’s mind seemed to have been relieved of 
some great anxiety by these answers, and he at once 
became more cheerful and talkative. He at the same 
time avoided saying anything that might discover who 
he was. 


266 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


This caution excited the boatman’s curiosity to such 
a pitch that he resolved to make a bold push to uncover 
the stranger. 

“ Wouldn’t take it amiss, would you?” said he, “if 
a man like me was to ask what your name was ? 
Needn’t mind if there’s any cause o’ keepin’ it a secret.” 

The stranger smiled, hesitated, and stammered in 
reply : “ Hanz Toodleburg is my father.” 

“Well, well! Just what I expected. Didn’t say 
nothin’, you see ; but I thought as how you was him,” 
exclaimed the boatman. 

“I have been over three years away from home,” 
interrupted the stranger. 

“ Then you are Tite — the old man’s son,” resumed 
the boatman, “well, well!” Turning to him who 
pulled the bow-oar: “Stop pullin’ a bit, Tom,” said 
he, “stop pullin’.” 

The man now rested his oar, and rising from his seat, 
extended his hand to the stranger, saying: “There’s 
a hard old honest hand that welcomes you safe back. 
John Flint is my name — called old Jack Flint gen- 
erally.” And he shook Tite’s hand again and again. 
“A heap o’ people round here reckoned how you was 
dead — they did. I can’t tell you how glad I am to see 
you, my boy. Its fifteen years since you and me sailed 
comrades on the sloop. Bin all round the world an’ aint 
above shakin’ the hand of an old fellow like me. That’s 
what I like.” Again and again the old boatman shook 
Tite’s hand, and gave' expression to such sentiments of 
joy as showed how true and honest was his heart. 

“ Yes, this is me, Jack, and I am as glad to see you 
as you are to see me. But I wanted to get across with- 
out being recognized.” 


RETURNED IIOME. 


267 


The old boatman felt in his pocket, and drawing forth 
the two Spanish dollars, insisted on returning them. 
“Them goes back into your pocket/' he said, shaking 
his head. “ Never shall be said Jack Flint charged an 
old comrade a sixpence for settin' him across stream." 

“ Keep it, keep it, Jack. I have enough for both of 
us," replied Tite, motioning his hand for the boatman 
to return the money to his pocket. 

“ Well, if you insist — an' I have to accept it, you see, 
it'll be out of respect and to please you." And he 
looked at the money doubtingly, shook his head, and 
reluctantly returned it to his pocket. 

The man now resumed his oar, and they proceeded 
on with increased speed. In less than half an hour 
from that time, they had landed at Nyack, and pro- 
ceeding up the road had reached Bright’s Inn, the two 
boatmen carrying the valise. Here they came to a halt, 
the men setting the valise down, while Tite seemed in 
doubt what to do next. Bewildered with the position 
he found himself in, hesitating and nervous, almost 
overcome by anxiety, his throbbing heart beat quicker 
and quicker the nearer he reached his home. But there 
was now a more violent struggle going on in his feelings. 
It was a struggle to decide between love and duty. 
Now he looked up the road in the direction of hisdiome, 
and advanced a few steps. Again he paused and looked 
up enquiringly at the house. The old boatman had 
told him that Chapman lived there, when all the embers 
of that love he had so long cherished for Mattie seemed 
to kindle again into a living fire. And yet what 
changes might have taken place since he left? If, 
however, she still loved him, and was true to him, how 
could he pass the house, even at that late hour, without 
at least letting her know he was in Nyack ? 


268 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


It was indeed late, and there was still a mile before 
he reached the home of his parents. He could have more 
time in the morning to meet Mattie, to unfold his heart 
to her, and to give her an account of the many strange 
things that had happened to him since he left. 

There was a bright light in two of the upper win- 
dows, but below the house was nearly dark, and Bright 
was in his bar-room, settling up me business of the day. 
Suddenly the light in the windows became brighter, 
then the shadow of a female figure was seen crossing 
and recrossing the room every few seconds. Tite watched 
and watched that flitting shadow, for he read in it the 
object of his heart’s love, read in it the joy that was in 
store for him, perhaps — perhaps the sorrow. The figure 
was Mattie’s, and it was her shadow that was causing 
him all this heart-aching. How the figure took the 
place of the shadow, and stood looking out at the win- 
dow, as if contemplating the moon and the stars, for 
nearly a minute. Yes, there was Mattie, watching and 
wondering what had become of the man who was at 
that moment contemplating her movements. Then the 
figure and the shadow disappeared, but it was only to 
increase Tite’s impatience to see her. 

The three men now proceeded to the door and the bell 
was rung. A moving of chairs and unlocking of doors 
indicated that the house had not gpne to bed. The 
door was soon opened by Titus Bright, in his shirt 
sleeves and slippers, and holding a candle in his hand. 
“ What’s up, Flint ?” he enquired, for he saw only the 
boatmen; “ what brings you over at this time of night?” 

“ There was a shillin’ to be made, you see, Bright, 
and a passenger what wanted settin’ over, you see,” 
said the ferryman, his face beaming with good nature. 
“Know you’d like to see him, you know, Bright, and 


RETURNED IIOME. 


269 


to make him as comfortable as you could for a night or 
so. Tom and me pulled him across.” Tite now advanced 
towards the inn-keeper, who gazed at him with an air 
of astonishment, and held the candle above his head to 
avoid the shadow. 

“ Come in, come in,” said Bright. “ We will make 
the gentleman as comfortable as we can.” 

“ You have forgotten me, I see,” said Tite, smiling 
and extending his hand. 

“ Grod bless me!” exclaimed Bright, grasping his 
hand in a paroxysm of delight; “if here isn’t Tite 
Toodleburg cum home. Come in, come in. Welcome 
home.” After shaking him warmly by the hand and 
leading him into the parlor, the Inn-keeper ran and 
brought his wife, who welcomed the young man with 
the tenderness of a mother. The good woman would 
have had a fire made and supper prepared, and indeed 
entertained him for the rest of the night, expressing her 
joy over his return, had he not told her how great was 
his anxiety to see his parents. 

“I know who it is the young man wants to see,” 
said Bright, touching him on the elbow and nodding 
his head suggestively. “And there’ll be a flutter up 
stairs when it’s told her you’re cum home.” 

The boatmen had remained in the hall. Bright now 
invited them into his bar and filled mugs of ale for 
them, and joined them in drinking the health of the 
young man who had been round the world. He then 
dismissed them, saying he would take care of the young 
gentleman’s baggage ; and stepping up stairs, tapped 
gently at Chapman’s door. “ We were all retiring for 
the night,” said Mrs. Chapman, opening the door 
slightly, and looking alarmed, for Bright was in a flut- 
ter of excitement, and it was nearly a minute before he 


270 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


could tell what he wanted. At length he stammered 
out: “ There, there, there — there’s a strange gentle- 
man down stairs, mam — and he would like to see Miss 
Mattie, I am sure he would.” 

“Mr. Bright,” replied Mrs. Chapman, tossing her 
head and compressing her lips, “ he can’t be much of 
a gentleman to come at this hour of night. My daugh- 
ter has no acquaintance who would presume to take 
such a liberty. Etiquette forbids it.” 

Mattie now made her appearance, with a hook half 
open in her left hand, and looking anxious and agitated. 
Then resting her right hand on her mother’s shoulder, 
“Mr. Bright,” she enquired, in a hesitating voice, 
“ what does the gentleman look like?” 

“A nice gentleman enough, Miss ” 

“ Is it any one you know ?” 

“ Why, Miss,” resumed Bright, with an air of reluc- 
tance, “wouldn’t intrude at this house, hut I know 
you’d like to see the gentleman ; and wouldn’t be par- 
ticular about the time.” 

Mattie fixed her eyes on Bright with a steady gaze, 
her agitation increased, her face changed color rapidly, 
her heart seemed to heat anew with some sudden trans- 
port of joy. “ Oh, mother ! oh, mother !” she exclaimed, 
tossing the book on the floor, “ I know who Mr. Bright 
means. It’s him! I know it’s him ! He has come hack !” 
She rushed past her mother, vaulted as it were down 
the stairs and into the parlor. The young man stood 
motionless. He was so changed in dress and appearance 
that she suddenly hesitated, and for a moment drew 
hack, as if in doubt. 

“It is me, Mattie,” said Tite, smiling and advanc- 
ing with his hand extended. The thought suddenly 
flashed through his mind that she might have expected 


RETURNED HOME. 


271 


some one else. He was mistaken, for she met his ad- 
vance like one whose heart was filled with joy. In 
short, the words had hardly fallen from his lips when 
they were in each other’s arms, and giving such proofs 
of their affection as only hearts bound together by the 
truest and purest of love can give. 

“I knew you would come back to me — yes, I knew 
you would. There was an angel guarding you while 
absent,” she whispered, looking up as he kissed her and 
kissed her. And as her eyes met his her face brightened 
with a smile so full of sweetness and gentleness. 

“ I knew what would happen,” said Bright, opening 
the door apace and looking in. “ Knew there would 
be just such a scene.” Just at that moment Mrs. Chap- 
man brushed past the exuberant inn-keeper, and stood 
like a massive statue, looking at the scene before her 
with an air of surprise and astonishment, for Matties 
was still clasped in the young man’s arms. 

“ My daughter 1 my daughter !” she exclaimed, rais- 
ing her fat hands, “enough to make a mother faint 
to see a well-brought-up daughter so familiar? It 
shocks me, my daughter. I am sure I am glad to see 
the young man home. But familiarity of that kind’s 
not becoming. Your father never would have married 
me if I had allowed familiarity of that kind.” 

“You must blame me; it was all my fault,” said 
Tite, handing Mattie to a chair, and advancing toward 
Mrs. Chapman. 

“You have been away a long time, haven’t you,” 
said the lady, receiving his hand in a cold and formal 
manner. “ You are very much changed — the effect of 
the sea-air on the complexion, I suppose? We shall 
be very glad to see you at any time, Mr. Toodleburg. 
It was so late we didn’t expect visitors, and were not 


m 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


prepared for then*. You said you had not seen your 
aged parents ?” 

“ Not yet,” replied Tite,” but I shall proceed there 
soon.” 

“ It was very kind of you,” resumed the lady, “to 
pay us this compliment. How very anxious they must 
he to see you.” 

“And I am equally anxious to see them,” he replied; 
“but I could not pass without seeing you — just for a 
few minutes.” Then turning to Mattie, he exchanged 
kisses with her, kissed her good-night, to the great 
distress of her mother, who was compelled to look on. 
He also promised to call early in the morning, spend 
most of the day, and give an account of his voyage. 

A minute more and he was seated in a wagon beside 
Bright, and proceeding over the road toward Hanz’s 
Little house. 

When he was gone, and the Chapmans had retired 
to their room, “Ma,” said Mattie, her face coloring 
with feeling, “ it was very unkind, even cruel of you 
to treat the young gentleman so coldly.” 

“ Done to balance the familiarity, my daughter — the 
familiarity! Needed something to balance that,” in- 
terrupted the lady, bowing her head formally. “ Young 
man looks respectable enough. He may have come 
home and not a sixpence in his pocket — who knows? 
In these matters, my daughter, it’s always best to know 
where the line is drawn before building your house.” 

“ He might have come home penniless ; it would not 
have made a bit of difference to me, mother.^ I would 
love him just as much,” replied Mattie. “But I can 
forgive you, ma, for I know you did not mean what 
you said.” And she kissed her mother, and retired for 
the night, the happiest woman in all Nyack. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 


HE BRINGS JOY INTO THE HOUSE. 

All was silent and dark in the little house where 
Hanz Toodleburg lived, when the wagon containing 
Tite and the inn-keeper drew up at the gate. A dull, 
dreamy, stillness seemed to hang over the place, and the 
little, old house was in the full enjoyment of a deep 
sleep. The two men alighted, and Tite stood for a few 
minutes viewing the scene around him. How strange 
and yet how familiar everything seemed. He was at 
the opposite side of the world only a few months ago, 
and time had sped on so swiftly that it seemed as if he 
had gone to bed at night on one side of the globe, and 
waked up in the morning at the other. Then he was 
on an island almost unknown to the rest of the world, 
surrounded by scenes so wild, so strange and romantic, 
that the reader would not believe them real. 

Here now was the old lattice gate, the vine-covered 
arbor leading through the garden to the cracked and 
blistered-faced front door, the stack of hop-vines in the 
garden-corner, and the rickety veranda where, when a 
boy, he used to sit beside his father of a summer even- 
ing, for it was here Hanz welcomed his friends and 
smoked his pipe. It was here, too, that Angeline, the 
spirit of whose sweet face had been with him in his 
wanderings, used to sit at her flax- wheel, spinning 
thread that was famous in Fly Market. 

Could this he a sweet dream, a beautiful delusion, a 
spirit-spell that moves the soul with pictures of love 
and enchantment, and from which some stern reality 


274 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


would soon awake him and dispel the charm ? No, it 
was reality, appealing more forcibly to all that was 
true and kindly in his nature, and filling his eyes with 
tears. 

The inn-keeper noticed the effect it was having on 
his feelings, and made an effort to divert his attention. 
“ Looks kind o' natural after bein’ round the world’ 
doesn’t it, Tite?” he enquired. 

“ Yes — seems like home again,” was the quiet reply. 

“Zounds!” exclaimed the inn-keeper, suddenly; 
“ hut there’s somethin’ heavy in it.” In attempting to 
lift the valise from the wagon it had fallen to the ground 
under its great weight. The inn-keeper shook his head 
and rubbed his hands. “ Had a lucky voyage, I 
reckon,” he concluded. 

“More than eighty pounds of solid gold in that,” 
returned Tite, coolly. The mention of so much gold 
astonished and delighted the inn-keeper. 

“ There’ll he such a time when the town hears that !” 
said he. “ There’ll be enough o’ them that’ll call you 
their friend.” 

“ Left three times as much more in the city,” resumed 
Tite. “And there’s enough on an island in the Pacific 
to buy a town as big as Nyack. And I know where 
it is.” 

“Eighty pounds of solid gold !” said the inn-keeper, 
looking enquiringly at Tite, then stooping down and 
testing the weight of the valise with his hands. “ It’s 
so. I always did know you’d come home a rich man.’, 

They now carried the valise into the veranda, knocked 
at the door, and listened for footsteps within. The 
big old dog had been growling and harking fiercely for 
several minutes. Now he recognized the friendly voice 
of the inn-keeper, and barked them a welcome. He 


HE BRINGS JOY INTO THE HOUSE. 275 

then ran to the little room where Hanz was sleeping, 
and only ceased harking when he got up. 

Soft footsteps were heard inside, a dim light shone 
through the little window opening into the veranda, 
and a voice inside enquired: “ Who comes t’ mine 
house sho late?” 

“ Open the door, friend Toodleburg,” replied the 
inn-keeper. “ Shouldn’t have disturbed you at this 
hour ; hut there’s a gentleman here would like to see 
you — an’ I’m sure you’d like to see him.” 

The old man opened the door at the sound of Bright’s 
voice, and stood gazing at the visitors with an air of 
bewilderment. “ You prings me goot news, eh, 
Bright?” he enquired. “ Yes, I am shure you prings 
me shome news ash ish goot.” 

“Father, father,” said Tite, advancing with his 
right hand extended, “ you don’t know me?” 

“ Ton’t know mine own Tite? Mine poor poy Tite !” 
exclaimed the old man in a paroxysm of joy. “ Yes 
I does.” And he raised his hands, and threw his arms 
around Tite’s neck, and wept for joy. “Ton’t know 
mine own Tite,” he repeated, raising his head and 
looking up in Tite’s face, “yes I does. Yes, I shay 
mine Tite will cum home ; an’ he cums home — and 
mine poor old heart he pees sho glat. Yes, he pees you, 
mine Tite. You prings shoy into mine house. Mine 
poor Tite — he corn’d home t’ mine house. Tar pees no 
more shorrow now in mine house.” The old man was 
overcome with joy. The idol of the house was home 
again, and true happiness reigned under that little 
roof. 

“You ton’t go away no more, mine Tite,” he con- 
tinued, patting him on the shoulder and pressing his 

hand. 


276 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


Angeline heard Tite’s voice and came rushing into the 
room frantic with joy. “ Thank God! thank God!” 
she exclaimed. “ He has brought our boy safe back to 
us.” And she embraced him, threw her arms around 
his neck, and kissed him again and again. 

“And I am so glad to get back to you, mother,” he 
replied, returning her affection, and pressing her to his 
breast fondly. “It is so good to be in my old home, 
where I can receive your blessings, and be good to you.” 

And Angeline looked up in his face with such a sweet 
smile, as she patted him on the shoulder, and their 
tears mingled in the sweetest of joy as she invoked 
God’s blessing on his head. Truly, God had heard 
their prayer, had blessed them, and had again made 
their little home bright with joy. 

“I wish Chapman could look in here now,” said 
Bright, “ there’ d be a lesson for him on what happiness 
is worth.” And he shook Tite by the hand, told him 
to remember that his house was always open to him, 
and left for the night. 

Even the old dog seemed anxious to join in welcom- 
ing the young gentleman back, for he would look up 
affectionately in his face, draw his body close to his 
feet, and lay his huge paw on his knee. 

And now a fire was lighted, and Angeline prepared 
supper for Tite, for he had eaten nothing since morning. 
The chair that had stood empty so long was filled now, 
and the happiness that reigned under that little roof 
was such as gold could not purchase. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 


HOW HE GOT AWAY FROM THE ISLAND. 

When supper was over, Tite proceeded to give his 
parents an account of the voyage, and the manner of ; 
escaping from the island with the treasure. The 
reader has already heard that portion which carries the 
story up to the death of old Dunman, the pirate. It 
will be only necessary then to give that part of it 
which relates to what took place afterward. 

“Poor old Dunman,” said Tite, “he was so kind to 
us all, and tried so much to relieve our sufferings and 
make us feel contented that we all liked him, and felt 
his death was a severe loss to us. There was something 
so terrible in the story of his life that we used to talk 
about it at night, and fancy all sorts of strange spirits 
haunting the place where his money was buried. It 
was this that made us all impatient to get away from 
the dreary place. Three or four days after we had 
buried him, we removed the stones he said the gold was 
buried under, and there found, as he had told us, bags 
and boxes of gold and silver, in bars and coin of various 
kinds, heavy silver and gold ornaments that had been 
plundered from churches and convents, with pearls and 
diamonds and other precious stones, enough to fill two 
iron chests two feet square and two feet deep. There 
was the thought that it was the price of so much crime. 
And what good after all was this gold and silver to do 
us, if we were to die on the island, like old Dunman? 
We divided it among us, just as we would something 

277 


278 * 


THE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


of little value, not caring which got the biggest portion. 
Then, after keeping out what we thought we might 
want, each buried his part in separate spots, and marked 
the places with piles of big stones. 

<c I always had a presentment that some vessel would 
come along, and afford us the means of getting away; 
hut after several months of disappointment my com- 
panions began to despair, and saying they might as well 
die one way as another, fitted up the boat, and with 
sails made of prepared seal skins, and such scanty pro- 
visions as they could obtain, set sail in search of an 
island described by old Dunman to be two leagues dis- 
tant, inhabited, and a place where whalers had been 
known to touch. Each took two bags of gold with him, 
promising that if they were successful they would return 
and rescue me. 

“I felt, and told them they were undertaking what 
was sure death, and bid them good-bye, never expect- 
ing to see them again. Week after week and month 
after month passed, and nothing was heard of them. 
I was alone, and nothing but the animals old Dunman 
had domesticated to keep me company. As a means ol 
attracting the attention of any vessel that might be 
passing, I built a hut on a high hill near the coast, and 
used to go there at night and build a fire as a signal. 
There wasn’t a sail came near. I had never feared 
death before ; but to have to die on this unknown island, 
with everything so strange and mysterious around me, 
and never be heard of again by my parents and friends, 
excited all sorts of curious fears in me. And the more 
I thought of it the more I wanted to get away. 

“ Well, it was five months since my companions set 
sail. Poor Ryder, poor Doane ; these were their names. 
They were both young men from Cape Cod ; and as 


HOW HE GOT AWAY FROM THE ISLAND. 27 9 

brave and true-hearted as ever lived. I got up one 
morning to renew my signal-fire, and was wondering 
what had become of the poor fellows, and saying to 
myself how foolish they were to anticipate death. It 
was just in the grey of daylight. Happening to cast 
my eye down the coast, I espied the dim figure of a sail 
advancing quietly up the coast. I shouted for joy at 
the sight, not thinking or caring whether it might 
bring friends or foes. The wind was light, but fair, 
and the little craft, which turned out to be a taunt- 
rigged schooner of about a hundred and twenty tons, 
came gliding along like some white-winged thing of 
life, for she had a square sail and fore and main gaff- 
topsails set. 

u Just before reaching the cove she furled her square 
sail and took in the gaff-topsails — a proof that she was 
making port. Lhastened down to the coast, for it was 
broad daylight now, and watched her every movement. 
She stood into the cove, rounded to, hauled down her 
jibs, and dropped her anchor. The men in charge of 
that vessel handled her as if they were familiar with 
the place. An hour passed, and no attempt was made 
to land. Men appeared on deck, moving about in the 
quiet discharge of their duty, but no attention was 
directed to the shore. Then a man stood on the quar- 
ter with his glass raised, and scanned the shore from 
point to point. Then there was an aggravating pause, 
and the rest of the men seemed to disappear below. 
Then an increased number appeared on deck, and began 
clearing the lashings from the stern boat. That was 
a joyful moment, for it was a proof of their intention to 
land. Then the boat was lowered away and pulled 
alongside, when two oarsmen got in, and were followed 
by two men who sat in the stern sheets, and who turned 


280 


TEtE YON TOODLEBURGS. 


out to be my old companions, Doane and Ryder. De- 
liverance bad come at last. 

“ After being at sea three days and nights in the 
boat, they were picked up by a New' Bedford whale- 
ship, and landed at Honolulu, where they chartered 
the schooner Lapwing and returned for me. Thinking 
it necessary to keep our discovery a secret, lest it might 
excite the cupidity of the crew, who were all natives, 
we had to proceed cautiously, and disguise our move- 
ments as much as we could. It was decided to leave at 
least half of the treasure until we could find a more 
secure means of removing it, as well as one less liable 
to excite suspicion at the points we would be compelled 
to land at on our way home. 

“We got what we agreed to take away quietly on 
board during the night, having filled Dunman’s big old 
chest with shells and buried it among them. Then 
each swore on oath that he would be true to the other, 
and that he wouldn’t make an effort to remove what 
remained except by hiutual agreement, and for the 
benefit of all equally. We disguised all our movements 
so well that not even the captain of the schooner, who 
was an old Spanish coaster, accustomed to suspicious 
transactions, mistrusted what we were doing. 

“ When we got all ready, we bid adieu to No Man’s 
Island, and set sail for Honolulu, feeling as if we had 
been set free from a prison. We were on the way home 
now, and that was enough to lighten our hearts. We 
were three weeks getting to Honolulu ; and had to 
remain there two months. We wanted an American 
ship homeward bound, to take passage on. But as none 
came, we shipped on board the British whaleship Rose, 
of Halifax, Nova Scotia, with a full cargo homeward 
bound. We got there after a long and stormy voyage, 


now IIE GOT AWAY FROM THE ISLAND. 


281 


working our way as sailors before the mast. We were 
looked on as poor, shipwrecked whalemen ; and no 
one on hoard thought we had an extra dollar in our 
pockets. At Halifax we found a vessel ready to sail 
for New York, and took passage on her, and here I am 
now, home again, and glad to get home.” It was long 
after midnight when Tite concluded his story ; and 
having received once more the caresses of his parents, 
he retired to the little room he had occupied when a 
noy, to sleep and dream of joys that were in store for 
nim. 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 


AN INTERESTING CEREMONY. 

The little sleepy town of Nyack had hardly waked 
up on the following morning, when the news of Tite’s 
arrival was rung in it’s ears. Marvelous stories, too, 
were told concerning the amount of money he had 
brought home, and the different countries he had visited. 
The inn-keeper declared at the breakfast table, intend- 
ing that Mrs. Chapman should hear it, that he could 
say of his own knowledge, that the young gentleman 
had brought gold enough home to build a castle, have 
a coach of his own, and live like a gentleman in the 
city all the rest of his life. 

“ Has he really brought home so much money ?” en- 
quired Mrs. Chapman, raising her eyes and looking at 
Bright with an air of astonishment. “ The young gen- 
tleman never mentioned it last night. Well, after all, 
there’s nothing like young gentlemen of his class seek- 
ing their fortunes away from home. To say the least, 
it will give the 3 r oung gentleman a fixed position in 
society.” 

“ Yes, my dear,” rejoined Chapman, “I always had 
a good opinion of the young gentleman. I always knew 
he would distinguish himself if he had a chance ” 

“ Good opinions are always plenty enough,” inter- 
rupted the schoolmaster, who was a boarder at Bright’s 
that week, “ when a man has money and don’t need 
good opinions.” 

Chapman made no reply. Indeed he was not pre- 
pared for such a thrust from so poor a fellow as the 

2S2 


AN INTERESTING CEREMONY. 


283 


schoolmaster. He understood, however, what was 
meant by it, for he had gone into court only a few weeks 
before and given such testimony as showed himself a 
knave and a hypocrite, though it saved Hanz Toodleburg 
from ruin. 

Mattie noticed the impression made on her mother 
by what Bright had said, but preserved a degnified 
silence. She felt that she had gained the price due to 
her constancy, had risen above the vanities and tempta- 
tions designed to distract and mislead her, and by 
following the dictates of her own clear judgment would 
soon secure both happiness and fortune. 

Breakfast was scarcely over at Hanz Toodleburg’ s 
before the neighbors, one after another, began to drop 
in to shake Tite by the hand, and welcome him home, 
and say “God bless you.” Many of them brought 
little presents, to show how true and heart-felt was the 
friendship they bore him. And when he went down 
into the village he found himself surrounded by friends, 
all anxious to shake his hand, and to welcome him back, 
and to hear something concerning his voyage. In short, 
he was an object of curiosity as well as respect, for at 
that day there was a mysterious interest attached to a 
young man who had been a voyage round the world, it 
being associated with spirit and daring of a remarkable 
kind. 

But it was not these friends Tite stole away and went 
down into the village to see. It was Mattie, at the 
mention of whose name a blush always colored his 
cheek. The two lovers had arranged for a morning 
walk, and were soon seen coming from the house 
together, smiling and happy. Mrs. Chapman had 
condescended to see them to the door, and her ponder- 
ous ligure quite filled the space. “ Don’t forget, my 


284 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


daughter,” she said, as they were leaving, “ don’t 
forget to bring the young gentleman hack to dine with 
us. We can't promise him anything very nice; hut 
he is welcome, you know, and must try and accom- 
modate himself to our changed circumstances.” 

There is to me nothing more beautiful to contemplate 
than the picture of two young lovers brought happily 
together after years of trial and disappointment, them- 
selves representing what there is good and pure in the 
human heart. It is then we seem to see the heart 
liberate itself from guile, and truth and right rejoice in 
their triumph over wrong. There was just such a picture 
presented by Mattie Chapman, the true-hearted Ameri- 
can girl, and the active, earnest, persevering, and 
modest, American hoy, just at this moment. 

The day was bright and breezy, and there, high up 
on that hill overlooking the Tappan Zee, under that 
clump of trees, with their embracing branches forming 
a bower, in the very spot where they had liberated 
their hearts and pledged their love, and bid each other 
a sad adieu on the morning Tite sailed on his voyage, the 
young lovers were seated again. Hour after hour passed, 
and still they sat there, for Tite was recounting his 
adventures ; telling Mattie the story of his strange 
voyage, and listening in return to her recital of what 
had taken place during his absence. Indeed, so earnestly 
were they engaged relating what had happened since 
they had been separated that they quite forgot dinner ; 
and on returning to the house, found Mrs. Chapman in 
a state of great anxiety. It was not that they had been 
absent so long ; hut the young gentleman would find 
things cold and unsatisfactory. The truth was, Mrs. 
Chapman had dressed herself with a view to a little 
display, and was a little disappointed at not having the 


AN INTERESTING CEREMONY. 


285 


opportunity to make it before a full table. Mr. Bowles, 
too, had been ordered to appear bright and nice, in his 
new livery and top-boots, to wait on the family at din- 
ner, and show, by his attentions to the young gentle- 
man, that he was a well-brought-up servant. In fine, 
the lady so embarrassed the young gentleman with her 
attentions, that he was glad when dinner was over. I 
ought not to forget to mention that Chapman, though 
he was less demonstrative, took several occasions to 
assure the young gentleman of the high respect he had 
always held him in — especially on account of his father 
and mother. 

Tite went home when dinner was over ; but returned 
again in the evening, for there was an attraction there 
he could not resist. And it was then that Mrs. Chap- 
man joined their hands, invoked a blessing on their 
heads and called them her children. 

“ I always did like the young gentleman — I am sure 

I always did,” she added, with an air of condescention. 

II My daughter knows I always did. It was not on the 
young gentleman’s account that I entertained a little 
misgiving (just a little) in reconciling the family con- 
nection.” Pausing suddenly, the lady turned to Mattie 
in a somewhat confused manner: “ My daughter, my 
daughter,” she returned, u you must overlook a num- 
ber of little things. You will — won’t you? Now, 
don’t say I am vain. But it was such a queer — yes, 
such a vulgar and very common name to carry into 
society.” 

“ There’s just one favor I have to ask, my daughter. 
I am sure the young gentleman won’t object to it — I 
am sure he won’t.” Again Mrs. Chapman paused, 
and seemed a little confused. 


286 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


“Certainly, ma, certainly/’ replied Mattie, with a 
pleasant smile, “ anything to please my dear mother.” 

“Well, then,” resumed Mrs. Chapman, mildly: 
“ There’ll be no harm in changing the name a little — 
just a little, for the sake of the effect it will have on 
society. The young gentleman, I am sure he will (he 
has got the means to do it, you see) set up a nice 
establishment in the city, and (looking forward a little, 
you know) you will have a set of society of your own. 
Things change so, you see. You wouldn’t mind chang- 
ing the name so that it will read Yon Toodleburg? 
T. B. Yon Toodleburg would be so much nicer.” 

I may mention here that such was the name the 
family took and flourished under at a subsequent period, 
as will appear in the second series of this work. 

“Fix things, name and all, to your liking, my dear 
mother,” replied Mattie, laughing heartily. “ I don’t 
believe Tite cares anything about it.” 

“Never was ashamed of my name,” replied Tite, 
with an air of indifference, “ never was. But it dosn’t 
matter much what a man’s name is. They used to call 
me all sorts of names at sea. ” 

“Another little harmless request,” resumed Mrs. 
Chapman, with a condescending bow. “ You see there 
is Bowles. Bowles is such an excellant servant, and 
so very respectable. He has such a presentable appear- 
ance when in his livery. I have great respect for 
Bowles — he understands me so well. You won’t have 
any objection to his having a fixed position in the 
family, will you?” 

Mattie blushed, and drawing her mother aside, whis- 
pered in her ear: “We can settle such matters, my 
dear mother, when others of more importance are dis- 
posed of.” 


AN INTERESTING CEREMONY. 


287 


“But you know, my daughter, ” she returned, with 
an air of great seriousness, “ he has done so much to 
make these common country people understand what 
our position was in the city/’ 


Two weeks were passed in making preparations for 
the wedding. And now the day was come, and that 
ceremony that was to unite two loving hearts for weal 
or woe, which was to seal their fortunes in one bond, 
was to be performed in the little old church, quietly and 
unostentatiously, by Dominie Payson, for it had been 
settled after some reluctance on the part of Mrs. Chap- 
man, that the job could be done by that worthy divine, 
and the world think none the less of the young people. 

Nyack, my reader must know, was in the best of 
humor that day, and when it was four o’clock, appeared 
in a smiling face, and dressed in it’s best clothes. 
Chapman, I may also mention, forgot his misfortunes, 
and for once appeared neat and tidy, and in a happy 
mood. Indeed he had kissed and congratulated his 
daughter several times during the day. He had also 
unburdened his heart by telling her how happy he felt 
that the family had escaped disgrace in the city. He 
had, indeed, something to be thankful for, since Gusher 
had been taken hack to New Orleans, tried, convicted of 
his crimes, and sent for two years at hard labor in the 
penitentiary. 

Mrs. Chapman, remembering that such events did 
not occur every day, resolved not to he outdone by any 
of them. She was sure a little display would not he 
wasted; and had spent four hours “getting herself 
elegant.” She had more than half a suspicion that 


288 


THE VON TOODLEBURGS. 


there would he some New York people present, and it 
would not do to he outshone by them in magnificence 
of toilet. Nor must I forget Bowles, who appeared 
shortly after breakfast in his new livery, with a tall 
hat half covered with a band and buckle, white gloves, 
and bright new boots and breeches. Bowles was a 
figure of immense importance, and contemplated him- 
self with an air of amusing gravity, as he moved up and 
down in front of the house, much to the amusement of 
the visitors at Bright's Inn. A bunch of flowers had 
been provided for his button hole ; and he was to drive 
the happy couple to and from church, an honor h6 
seemed to appreciate fully. 

There was an interesting scene, too, at Hanz Toodle- 
burg’s little house. Instead of making bridal presents 
of costly jewelry and works of art, as is now done, the 
worthy settlers sent the groom's father presents of a 
very different character. Hanz had found enough to 
do during the morning in receiving these presents and 
thanking the donors. There was a pig from farmer 
Trorap, a barrel of apples from neighbor Steuben, a big 
?heese from farmer Yan Beuskirk, a ham from the widow 
Welcker, a pan of new-made sausages from, farmer 
Deitman, and a bushel of dried apples from Dominie 
Payson. In fine, one sent a cow, another a sack of 
wheat, another a barrel of cider ; and in that way they 
had well neigh stocked Hanz's larder for the winter. 

It was now nearly time for the ceremony. Neatly, 
but plainly dressed people were seen treading their way 
toward the little church, while around its door a number 
of bright-faced children, all dressed so neatly in white, 
and with their hands full of flowers, stood ready to 
greet the bride and bridegroom. In short, the worthy 
settlers had come from all directions to witness the 


AN INTERESTING CEREMONY. 


289 


ceremony. There were rustics, in their simple attire, 
sauntering through the old church yard, or leaning 
listlessly over the paling. And there in the old belfry 
sat Jonas, the ringer, with his bald head and his weep- 
ing eyes, ready to ring out a merry peal as soon as the 
bride and bridegroom came in sight. 

A laughing, happy throng of people filled the little 
church as soon as the door was opened. Then Dominie 
Payson took his place at the altar ; and Hanz and Ange- 
line, representing age beautified by simplicity, walked 
slowly up the aisle, and took their place on one side, 
followed by Critchel, the inn-keeper and the school- 
master, who stood just behind them. A few minutes 
later and Mrs. Chapman, arrayed in all the majesty 
of her best wardrobe entered, accompanied by her meek 
little husband, and took their places on the opposite 
side, presenting such a contrast of characters. The 
picture only wanted the central figures now. 

A few minutes more, and there was a sudden, anxious 
movement on the part of those inside. All eyes were 
turned towards the door. The bridal party had arrived. 
Old Jonas was ringing his bell. The children at the 
door were tossing flowers at their feet ; and their voices 
were heard singing a sweet and touching song. Then 
the bridal party advanced up the aisle, the bride dressed 
in simple white, and with flowers in her golden hair, 
and looking so sweetly. And as they took their place 
before the altar, there was something so full of love 
and gentleness, of truth and purity, in that sweet face 
as Mattie looked up and calmly surveyed the scene, 
that it seemed as if earth had nothing to compare 
with it. 

And as the simple, but impressive ceremony proceeded, 

and the young lovers once more pledged their love, and 
19 


290 


TUG VON TOODLEBURGS. 


made that solemn vow never to separate until death 
comes, and knelt in prayer to sanctify it ; and as the 
Dominie blessed them, and pronounced a benediction, 
and as the soft rays of the setting sun played over and 
lighted up that beautiful face, it seemed as if some 
gentle spirit, sent from on high, was hovering over the 
•scene and whispering Amen. 





















































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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



